Sanity Is Relative
by EusYram
Summary: The story of what could have happened were the Joker rescued from his own trial by an unexpected admirer.
1. Chapter 1

_Escape to Insanity_

Sitting on the steps of Gotham Courthouse, she buried her face into the folds of her woolly black coat so that only her pale blue eyes showed above the collar. It was cold. The pale and bleak March sky above her was only just now beginning to lighten up as the sun crept over the horizon. She's been sitting on these cold concrete steps for about half-an-hour now, since six o'clock in the morning. Waiting.

Her colleagues called her Catherine. Her friends called her Kitty. Her parents, however, insisted on calling her Catherine Elizabeth. She preferred to be called simply Kitty Liz. Her parents were the kind of people who strongly believed in ideals and morals, and associating with the right crowd. It was only because of her family's connections that she was now Gotham's most-appreciated lawyer. And she hated it.

A strong gust of icy wind blew across the courtyard that separated The Courthouse from the street. She shivered, pulling her coat over her knees.

"Should have worn a hat," she mumbled to herself in annoyance, then immediately told herself off for complaining. Her parents were always complaining, it seemed, and her greatest fear was to turn into one of them - someone afraid to deviate from the norm. Perhaps it was too late already...?

She told herself it wasn't true. She needed to stop complaining and to start believing in herself because what she was about to do called upon all her self-confidence, and perhaps, even a hint of insanity. She fingered her business card in her coat pocket, running a finger over the razor blade taped to the other side...

Press vans began to arrive at around that moment. Clearly, the media also felt the need to arrive early. Better be safe than miss the trial of the century. If Kitty Liz were to miss it because they suddenly decided to change the schedule for safety purposes, she might just never forgive herself.

The press were arriving in masses now; reporters, photographers, cameramen. Kitty Liz found this strange. The trial was supposed to start at eight, so why was the media arriving so early? She got up off the icy steps, her behind rather numb. The energy of the crowd in the courtyard was now spreading to her. She jumped up and down a little bit, trying to warm up her frozen legs. The sun crawled over the rooftops ahead, bathing the courtyard with the brightest light. For a moment, everybody was blinded. Then, there was a scream.

"They are coming in through the side door!" a woman cried on the other side of the courtyard. There was a panicked commotion as all the reporters, photographers, and cameramen rushed forward to greet the police car that had just pulled in beside the left side of the building. It looked as if though Kitty Liz didn't show up two hours in advance for nothing - they were starting the trial an hour early. She watched the reporters crowd the police car in faint amusement. She knew only too well how this courthouse worked. The media would be locked out as soon as the defendant was inside. She entered the courthouse through the main door, intent on exchanging a few words, or perhaps items, with the defendant before the trial began.

People greeted her as she walked through the lobby. She nodded at them and smiled through gritted teeth.

"Miss Francis!" called out a fellow lawyer. "You're not here for the Joker's trial, are.. are you?" he added quickly, nervously.

Kitty Liz suddenly felt a strange surge of hate against this cowardly little lawyer. He was the kind that wouldn't dare be associated with the Joker even if the latter saved his life. Fearing that she didn't hide the look of disgust on her face all too well, she replied mysteriously "Who knows?" and walked away as quickly as possible.

Down the corridor, turn to the right, turn left. A multitude of voices could be heard coming from the direction of the side entrance, down the hall. Then the sound of the door shutting, and the voices fading. Kitty Liz quickened her pace. The press would be coming in through the main doors any second now. She turned another right corner, and came face to face with three people. Two of them were guards, who, judging by the looks on their faces, were just as surprised to see Kitty Liz at the moment as she was them. The person in the middle, however, did not seem to be fully aware of his surroundings. He stood there, looking into space, lost in his own thoughts. His scarred mouth formed a wicked smile. None of the videos, none of the pictures that Kitty Liz has seen (and there were plenty) could've prepared her for what she was seeing now. Even though he was clad in an orange jumpsuit instead of his usual purple attire, even though his hands were bound by handcuffs, he terrified her. He looked up at her, and their eyes met for the first time. Her horror increased two-fold. At the moment, he didn't have his horrible face-paint, and his hair was dirty-blonde instead of green. And yet he was even more terrifying like this, because he suddenly looked almost human. If it wasn't for the scars and the insane expression, he would have had a pleasant face, handsome even.

The moment was gone. One of the guards gave the Joker a rough shake, and mumbled, "Come on." They pushed past Kitty roughly, with a gruff "Excuse me," and continued down the corridor. A great rush of voices down the hallway brought Kitty Liz back to reality. The reporters would catch up to the Joker in a second, and she would lose her only chance to talk. She sped down the hallway in pursuit.

"Mr. -" she cried out, "Mr. Joker, may I have a word?"

They rounded a corner, and at that moment a male reporter ran full-speed into her, sending her flying into the wall.

"Mr. Joker, I have heard -" but he never finished his sentence. The rest of the press arrived, and his question was drowned out by tens of others. Kitty Liz was desperate now.

The Joker was surrounded from every possible direction.. except the wall. Taking action, fast, she dove between the wall and the guard on the Joker's right, much to the guard's dislike. She turned to face the Joker. Walking backwards, the only thing she needed to do now was to get the Joker to listen to her.

"Excuse me, Mr.-" Somebody shoved her from behind, almost knocking her off her feet. Catching herself, she said "Mr. J? May I call you Mr. J?"

The Joker gave her a look of slight amusement.

"No comment," he said sarcastically.

"I'm not a reporter!" Kitty Liz cried out desperately. The Joker looked up at her, "I'm a lawyer."

"OHHH," he replied, his sarcasm thickening. Then he looked away, clearly annoyed.

"Please, it has come to my attention that you do not have a lawyer for your defence-"

"Don't want one," Joker interrupted suddenly, "There is absolutely no service that you can provide that may interest me." He laughed a maniacal little laugh.

"Please," Kitty Liz continued, "you can plead the insanity plea-" But the Joker didn't let her finish her sentence once more. He turned to her, dark eyes gleaming, and said, in a voice barely above a whisper but in a voice more intimidating than anything Kitty has ever heard, "I'm not... crazy... And that kind of attitude is exactly the thing that makes lawyers so.. unattractive to me." And then he smiled at her, revealing yellowed teeth.

"Well... Well, then..." Kitty Liz began, digging her fingers into her coat pocket, "Here is my card, in case you, uh, change your mind."

She slipped her calling card out of her pocket, covering the razor blade with two of her fingers. But right before she placed the card into the chest pocket of the Joker's jumpsuit, she lifted her fingers just enough for the blade to catch the Joker's eye. They exchanged a knowing, understanding look at that moment, and suddenly, the whole group arrived at the courtroom door.

The guard at the great double-door, whose name-tag identified her as Samantha Leigh, let the Joker and the two guards accompanying him enter immediately. Then she smiled at Kitty Liz.

"Go ahead, Miss Francis."

Kitty Liz proceeded into the courtroom, knowing that the damage was done.

The voluminous room was filling up very quickly now. Kitty Liz knew who many of the people walking through the door had to be. The close ones of the Joker's victims. As they entered the room, every single one of them cast a dark look in the direction of the defendant's seat. Seeing this, Kitty Liz almost began to doubt herself. Who was she to be putting all of these innocent people in mortal danger? What, in God's name, was she doing? She shook her head, clearing those thoughts, and wondered instead what she would do if there were no seats left once everybody arrived. She stood to the side, waiting. Eventually, it seemed that no one else was coming. Everyone was seated, and immersed in conversation. She edged out of her corner, trying not to attract attention to herself. Carefully, she made her way past the first row of seats. An elderly man noticed her, and gave her an understanding smile. He moved his briefcase off the seat beside him, and Kitty Liz sat down, feeling grateful. Her seat was only a few meters away from that of the Joker.

The conversations were beginning to die down now, and there was a subdued feeling of apprehension in the air. At the back, Samantha was closing the big wooden doors. This was it. The trial of the century.

"All rise!" came the bailiff's loud and clear voice, announcing the judge's arrival.

The judge walked in. She was an elderly woman, with greying hair. Short and stocky, she always had a characteristic, steely glint in her grey eyes. The courtroom rose to greet her, the Joker getting out of his chair lazily. She walked to her booth, giving the room her usual steely glare.

"Judge Amber Whatts presiding," came the bailiff's clear voice again. Judge Whatts sat down, and the rest of the courtroom followed suit.

"Court is now in session," the judge said, with a strike of her gavel. She shuffled the papers in front of her. "Case number 45345. The Joker versus the city of Gotham. Is the defendant present?"

The Joker made an incoherent sound from his seat. Judge Whatts gave him a look of utter hate, and Kitty Liz wondered if this was the Joker's usual courtroom behaviour.

"Is the defendant present?" the judge repeated again, in a scathing, threatening voice.

"Yes, Your Honour," the Joker mumbled back nasally.

"Is the prosecution ready to present its case?" she demanded, glaring at the desk on the Joker's right.

"Yes, Your Honour," came the bright voice of a man sitting there. He was tall, lean, and dark, and just the way he talked and held himself already told Kitty Liz that the case was lost for the Joker. "My name is John Creed," he began, "and I believe that this man," he pointed dramatically to the Joker, "is the perfect example of everything that Gotham doesn't stand for. Greed. Violence. Insanity. Mercilessness." John Creed suddenly stood up, pushing away his chair with a force that almost tipped it over. He began to pace the floor in front of the jury, speaking with much emotion, and many more dramatic hand gestures, about the crimes the Joker's been accused of, and the innocent lives he's destroyed. By the time he was seated and silent, several people in the audience were quietly sniffing into their tissues, and dabbing at their eyes.

The Joker slowly leaned forward in his seat, and smacked his lips. Staring at the judge, he began his own opening statement.

"The people of Gotham have grown ridiculously stupid over the past few years." Kitty Liz watched the prosecution attorney grip the sides of his chair in fury, glowering at the Joker a bit overdramatically. He was clearly wavering on the edge of calling an objection. The Joker continued, unbothered. "They had so many chances of preventing all of these terrible crimes from happening, and yet they failed to act every time. Maybe because of pride, maybe because of laziness, but most probably because of plain stupidity. So am I guilty of these accusations?" He glanced down at his own heap of papers. "Homicide? Armed robbery? Manslaughter? Am I guilty? No. The people of Gotham are. They are to blame." The Joker suddenly flung himself around in his chair, to face the audience. "Yes, Gotham is guilty, because failure to act is just as bad as participation."

Kitty Liz felt a sudden chill go through her body, because she knew that in some sick, twisted way, the Joker was right.

The prosecution's desk seemed to explode. The attorney jumped out of his seat with a loud

"Objection!"

The judge was quick to respond.

"You have no grounds for objections. Overruled. One more outburst like that, prosecutor, and I'll hold you in contempt," she snapped, banging with her gavel. The attorney sat back down, his drama becoming slightly distracting.

The Joker, completely ignorant of the prosecution, began to fumble with something on the front of his jumpsuit. And a second later, a panicky, shrill voice cried out

"What is that in the defendant's hand?!"

John Creed was pointing at the Joker again, his face distorted with a dramatic mix of horror and fury. The guard to Joker's left grabbed the object of Creed's attention out of the Joker's hand, and Kitty Liz almost fell out of her chair. What the guard was holding was her calling card, the very one she gave the Joker earlier today. Why would he take it out this early, in plain sight? What will happen to her when they discover the razor taped to the back? She was beginning to feel dangerously faint.

The judge motioned the guard to hand her the card. Kitty Liz closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing, and to come up with adequate excuses for why the Joker has her calling card, and why there is a razor blade taped to the back. Needless to say, she failed miserably. Meanwhile, the judge examined the card closely, turning it over several times, and then said, addressing Creed,

"It's nothing, just a business card."

Kitty Liz jumped at those words, eyes opening wide. And then she sank into her chair with relief. The razor blade wasn't there. The judge handed the card back to Joker's guard, who handed it back to the Joker. John was looking disappointed.

The Joker took the card casually, stealing a glance back at its original owner, momentarily locking eyes with her. He could tell by her face that she's just lived through the most frightening moment of her life. Smiling to himself, he turned around to face the front again, absent-mindedly fingering the razor blade now taped to the inside of his sleeve.

The Judge called the court back to order, and asked if the Joker was finished with his statement.

"Yeah… Your Honour," came his reply, the last two words coming out through gritted teeth. The judge paused, glaring at him, but decided that his unfelt response would have to do. She turned to Creed, her mouth twitching, and told him that he may invite his first witness.

There were plenty of witnesses, all of them recounting terrible stories of the Joker's inhumane acts. The prosecution attorney was overflowing with enthusiasm as he questioned each witness, but his enthusiasm grew more and more distracting. The Joker sat slouching in his chair, silent. He was enjoying the witnesses' stories.

Finally, it was time for the jury to be released to make their verdict. As the jury left the room, the audience burst into excited conversation. Kitty Liz however, sat with her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands, which were cold, even though the over-flowing courtroom has become rather warm. She tried to block out the noise, as every single sound around her contributed to her growing headache. She felt anxious, even though she knew the case was lost from the very start. Unlike her, the Joker seemed to be in a perfectly correct state of mind. He sat in his chair, leaning back in it as much as he could, his head lolling backwards. His eyes were closed, and there was still a smile twisting his broken lips.

It must've been an hour before the jury returned, and the courtroom immediately fell silent and attentive. Kitty Liz, however, felt too sick to look up, and continued staring at the floor, face in her hands. The Joker, too, continued lounging in his chair.

The verdict was handed to the bailiff, who handed it over to the judge, who read it over silently, her eyes glinting, and then handed it back to the jury. The foreman then read it aloud. Finally came the words that Kitty has been dreading for the entire day.

"We, the jury, find the defendant.." The entire courtroom held its breath at that minuscule pause. The Joker even bothered to open his eyes. ".. guilty of all charges."

A silent cheer seemed to emanate from the courtroom, while Kitty Liz sank even lower in her seat. The Joker closed his eyes again, and his smile widened. It was clear now that he never expected to win the case.

The judge was now examining a calendar on her desk. Then she addressed the Joker.

"Sentencing will be at 9:00 A.M. on April 1st. You will not be returning to Arkham, but will be taken into custody. Court dismissed." She smacked her gavel conclusively.

"Alright, time to go," one of the two guards behind the Joker's chair observed. But at that moment the Joker held up his hand for attention.

"May I say something, before you take me away to my doom?" he asked with mock politeness. The judge gave him a curt nod. The Joker turned around in his chair and cleared his throat.

"All of you people," he said, absent-mindedly sweeping across the room with his hand, "are so trusting of those who are in charge, that you've become blind to all the little mistakes that they make. Now, those mistakes may be little, but they sure do prove to be fatal!" His voice took on a different tone at that last word, as if it excited him. He glanced at the guard to his right, the one who told him that it was time to go, with a smirk. "To tell you the truth, you've become so blind, that you don't even see the things that are staring you right in the face." At that moment, he looked straight at Kitty Liz, and his expression was serious, threatening. Kitty Liz felt rather hot, and sank low into her seat guiltily. "Never trust the ones who seem harmless!" The Joker threw his hand-cuffed hands into the air as he spoke. Suddenly, he straightened up, looking around the room as if planning a move. He slipped his hand inside his cuff, and carefully unstuck the razor blade. He took a calculating breath. "I admit, you've finally caught me.. But that doesn't mean you'll have me for long.. Hey, ugly!" He turned to the guard to his right, and the latter leaned towards him. At that moment, Joker struck with his hand-cuffed hands, sending a blur of silver across the guard's face. The guard recoiled with a shriek of pain, grasping his face, and tumbled to the floor, blood making a puddle around him. The second guard acted immediately, but the Joker was ready. As the guard jerked towards him, the Joker struck out with both hands again, slashing the guard's throat. He pushed him out of the way, and jumped from his seat. By that time, the room was in a state of panic.

Guards came spilling out of every direction, it seemed, but the Joker was fast to act. He stared right at Kitty Liz and, having made-up his mind, went straight for her.

"Happy?" he hissed, as he glared at her. Kitty Liz cringed in her chair. He pulled her up by the arm, and threw the handcuffs over her neck, pulling her right up close to his body, and pressing the blade to her throat. Guns were pointing at them from every-which-way.

"Now, now, don't do anything stupid, you cowards," Joker crooned at the guards, "You wouldn't want to lose your precious lawyer." He strengthened his grip on her. "Come on," he commanded.

They walked backwards to the door, the guns following every step they took. Nobody dared to move, and the fear on Kitty Liz's face was not an act. Finally, the door loomed right behind them, and the Joker pushed it open carefully with his foot. They slipped through, wheeling around as they did so, and came face to face with Samantha. She held her gun with shaking hands, pointing it above and behind Kitty Liz, where the Joker's face was just visible.

"I'm not gonna let you go," Samantha said, her voice trembling, but confident. The Joker sighed in annoyance.

"Let her go," Samantha ordered him.

"Ms. Lawyer," he addressed Kitty, "will you please help me out here?"

Kitty Liz swallowed, and took a deep breath. She locked eyes with Samantha and begged

"Please, put the gun down. It will be better that way. I promise you, I'll be alright."

Samantha was begging herself, with her eyes. A painful moment passed.

"Miss Francis.." she began, and Kitty Liz was sure she felt the Joker jolt as she spoke the name, "I'm sorry." With a guilty expression on her face, Samantha put her gun down to the floor. The Joker wheeled Kitty Liz around, and shoved her along down the corridor. As they rounded the corner, she felt the Joker's grip on her loosen, and the razor blade leave her throat. She twisted out of the Joker's grasp. That hint of insanity was just beginning to kick in. She gave the Joker a long, intense look as she re-examined what she was about to do. Making her choice for the final time, she grabbed the Joker by the wrist, and started pulling him along the corridor, saying

"This way."

They rounded a corner, and then another one. Voices could now be heard behind them, and they knew that they were being pursued. Suddenly, Kitty Liz turned sharply, pulling the Joker into a stairwell.

"Why are we going up here?" he asked incredulously.

"Because we can escape from up there," she replied quickly. They sped through several landings, until finally the stairs came to an end. They burst into the corridor, and followed it to the last doorway it contained. Kitty Liz pushed the Joker in, and closed the door behind them quickly. She took a key out of her pocket, and locked it. Just as she removed the key, the door began to shake violently. The guards were on the other side.

"You've had this all planned out, haven't you?" the Joker asked, as they stood there, trying to catch their breath.

"Yeah," she said simply. Then, she reached into her hair, which was tied back in a semi-ponytail, and held together with an assortment of bobby pins. She removed one of the bobby pins as the Joker watched her curiously. She motioned him over. "Give me your hands." The Joker held his hands up obediently, looking even more curious. Kitty Liz got a hold of his handcuffs, and began to pick at the lock with the pin. Soon enough, the Joker was shaking the cuffs off his wrists with enthusiasm.

"You know, hairpins like that are not something you acquire at a local mall," he observed.

"I know a few places," Kitty Liz replied, smiling to herself.

The expression on the Joker's face was changing. Becoming serious again.

"Why are you doing this?" asked the Joker, and his voice was harsh.

Kitty Liz wavered.

"Why the hell are you doing this??" asked the Joker again, and his voice was becoming dangerously low.

"I'm not going to tell you, here, now, why I am doing this, just as you wouldn't tell me right now how you really got those scars."

They stared at each other, each sizing the other one up. Kitty Liz was tall, and she was no weakling. But she was facing a six-foot-tall asylum inmate, with a razor blade. She was just about to look away from the Joker's penetrating glare, when a rather vicious assault on the door made them both jump.

Brought back to reality, the Joker began looking for the way out. And then he realized that there was none. He looked at Kitty Liz in shock.

"How the hell do we get out of here??" he asked, advancing on her until he backed her into a wall, the blood-covered razor flashing dangerously between his fingers.

Kitty Liz tried to find her voice, but couldn't. Instead, she looked past the Joker's face, to the opposite side of the room. The Joker caught on soon enough, and turned around to look at a single window in the back wall. He turned back to face Kitty Liz, his expression a mix of surprise and anger.

"What??" he hissed. Then he let go of her, and marched over to the window. Kitty Liz followed once she could breathe again. The Joker slid the window up forcefully, and leaned out of it, looking at what lay beyond. What met him was a four-storey drop, and he turned back around to glare at Kitty Liz.

"Now what?" he growled.

Not sure whether or not she could talk yet, Kitty pointed at the ceiling. The Joker followed the direction she was pointing in with his eyes before flinging himself out of the window again, and looking up. The roof of The Courthouse was only two metres away.

"And how do we get up there??"

"We climb," Kitty Liz croaked, her voice still unstable. The Joker stared at her, incredulous. Feeling that the Joker won't be convinced without a demonstration, Kitty Liz walked past him, and climbed onto the frame of the window. She slipped through it, and stood on the other side now, gripping the outer edges of the frame with both hands. There was a ledge that ran along the wall outside, and she began to edge along that. Her coordination wasn't impressive, but she had pretty good balance. Heights didn't bother her either. She heard the Joker hoist himself out of the window with a grunt. He began to follow her reluctantly along the edge. They made it to the corner of the building. Here, more ledges and ornamental protrusions formed a sort of ladder to the top. Here, Kitty Liz began to climb. The Joker watched after her.

"It amazes, if not frightens, me what women can do in high heels."

Kitty Liz smiled at his remark. So she amazed the Joker. That was a start. She flopped over onto the rooftop, and felt something shoving at her thighs. She mustered her final strength, and flung her legs onto the roof, as well. The Joker's head came into view a moment later and he, too, scrabbled onto the cold concrete. They lay there for a few moments, panting in the fresh, chilly air. After a few refreshing gulps of the cold air, they got up unsteadily, still dizzy from the climb.

"I hope your ingenious plan involves some type of transportation," the Joker said sceptically. Kitty Liz looked around, trying to get her bearings.

"There is a parking garage attached to this building. Right there. We'll get there by going across the roofs."

"Now we're talking," the Joker replied, a familiar insane grin flashing across his features.

The parking garage was not hard to access. A set of stairs led from the roof to the very bottom. There, amongst the rows of parked cars, Kitty Liz led the way to a spot right in the corner.

"Well, where's your ride?" the Joker asked, not sure what he should be looking at. Kitty Liz stared at something in the corner, and pretty soon the Joker saw it too. A little black Vespa scooter. The Joker looked at Kitty Liz, un-amused.

"What?" she asked, even though she already knew.

"You've got.. to be kidding me."

"You've got any better alternatives??"

"We're in a PARKING GARAGE!!"

"You're gonna steal a car?? That one?" Kitty Liz pointed at a inconspicuous-looking silver one across from her scooter.

"No, WE'RE gonna steal a car, and we're gonna steal THAT one," He pointed to a commercial van that was parked further down the line, "You can put your scooter in the back."

Kitty Liz proceeded to break into the van with the use of one of her bobby pins again, while the Joker hauled her scooter over. Once the scooter was inside, Kitty Liz got into the driver's seat, but suddenly paused.

"What?" asked the Joker, leaning on the open driver's door.

"I don't think these work on car ignitions..." She stuck her bobby pin into the ignition, and moved it from side to side. But the car didn't start. She looked up at the Joker, worried.

"Clearly you've never hotwired a car before. Scooch," he commanded, motioning her to move into the passenger seat. She obeyed quickly. The Joker got into the driver's seat, and shut the door behind him. He began to work at the access cover underneath the steering wheel with his razor blade. Once the cover was off, he began to work at the wires underneath. Suddenly, the ignition was on, and the engine kicked off with a roar. The Joker grinned at Kitty Liz enthusiastically.

"Off we go, then," he said, and to Kitty's surprise, put on his seatbelt.

"What? You don't think maniacs like me care about personal safety?"

Kitty Liz grinned.

"Well, you certainly don't care about the safety of others."

"Well, there are a few exceptions," the Joker replied with a shrug. Police sirens suddenly blared outside. "Great, we've got company." The Joker turned to Kitty Liz. "I need you to get down in front of the seat." He began to back out of the parking spot.

"What?!"

"You're my hostage, remember?"

"I thought I may have been promoted to 'accomplice' by now!"

"Listen, if you don't want to get shot at, then do it!" He sped out of the parking garage. Kitty Liz climbed down onto the floor in front of her seat, finding herself completely cramped. Meanwhile, the Joker made a sharp turn onto the street beyond.

They didn't even make it past the first intersection before the Joker threw a casual glance behind him, and cursed. Police sirens suddenly erupted from all around them. The Joker wavered, and then stepped on the gas. The van accelerated with another deafening roar, and the Joker turned the steering wheel madly. Kitty Liz felt the van swing around a corner, but the sirens were still as loud and clear as before. The Joker increased speed yet again. He turned to Kitty Liz momentarily.

"Hang on!"

She did, and at that moment, the van did something she wasn't sure until then was possible. The tires squealed as the Joker turned the steering wheel completely to the left. She felt the two wheels on her side lift off the pavement and was sure that the van would tip over. However, it did not. As the Joker worked hard to straighten out the steering wheel, the right side of the van reconnected with the pavement.

"What'd you do?!" Kitty Liz cried out.

"I turned around." Then, "Bad idea, they're surrounding us... Damnit!" He suddenly ducked behind the steering wheel, and not a moment later, the windshield broke in several places. Another bullet took out the Joker's side window, and Kitty Liz screamed. The Joker looked at her apologetically, and then looked back out at the road again. He made a very sharp right turn. The sirens seemed farther away now, and he grinned triumphantly.

"May I please sit on the seat now?" Kitty Liz begged, afraid that she was going to throw up.

"Yes," came the reply.

She climbed out of the compressed space, and sat shakily on the seat, putting her seatbelt on hastily.

"Please don't ever do that again."

"I'll try, but I can't guarantee anything."

"Do you even know where you're going??"

"What?! Of course I do! Somewhat."

Kitty Liz looked at him doubtfully. Then she realized that she couldn't hear any sirens anymore.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, "I think we've lost them!"

"Think again," the Joker growled in response. From around the corner ahead of them, five police cars came swerving onto the street, sirens blaring. The Joker turned left, and after a few minutes Kitty Liz realized where they were. They were on the outskirts of the city by now, and on their right was Gotham River. The Joker was increasing speed again.

"There is a place," he said, "where we can hide. This road does a sharp bend ahead, which will momentarily hide us from view." He glanced in the rear-view mirror, where the procession of flashing blue and red lights could be seen. "On one side of that hidden portion of the street is a dock. The road beyond the bend ends in a 'T', and zigzags in both directions. If we are quick enough to drive into the dock unnoticed, the cops will continue along the road ahead. Hopefully, they'll think we're just out of sight." Kitty Liz stared at him, befuddled.

"Never mind," he told her, "Just hold on."

They sped past a bright 'sharp curve ahead sign', and then Kitty Liz understood what the Joker was talking about. The road turned to the left, bending around a large storage facility that also hid it from view. The Joker stepped on the gas, and burst into the turn. Kitty Liz saw the dock, slightly below the street they were on, a drive leading down to it on their right. Kitty looked into the side-mirror, and saw that the cop cars were blocked from view by the storage facility. The Joker careened onto the drive leading to the dock, but not sharply enough. They slammed into a pile of cement-filled barrels on their left, spun madly for a couple of moments, and finally came to a stop right underneath the street they were just on. The Joker looked up, squirming and groaning, a gash on his forehead spilling blood over his face. Sirens blared above them, but the police cars passed without stopping or slowing. The engine rattled dead, and there was silence.

They climbed out of the car, on hands and knees, the Joker looking like he was about to pass out. Kitty Liz willed herself to get up, and threw off her suit jacket. Using her teeth, she began to work at the sleeve of her dress shirt, until she finally tore the entire thing off. She approached the Joker, who was spluttering on the pavement, and tied the rag around his head. He wheezed as she helped him up.

"Now that," he said, panting, and spitting out the blood that got into his mouth, "was a close one." Kitty Liz nodded, as the Joker wiped his face with his sleeves.

Exhausted, they sat down next to their steaming van, and said nothing for about ten minutes. Finally, the Joker got up, and went to get Kitty Liz's scooter from the back of the van.

"It's kinda dented and slightly scratched, but I'm sure it will get you to the nearest police station. Then you could tell them all about how you were kidnapped by the sociopath monster, and how you daringly escaped."

Kitty Liz gaped at him.

"No?" the Joker asked, uncertain.

"Don't you understand???" she burst out at him, "I didn't do this planning to go back to my normal life afterwards, as if nothing happened! I want people to know that it was ME who helped Gotham's greatest criminal escape from jail! I don't want to go back to my normal life, I want to help YOU." She was breathing heavily, looking hurt.

"Please don't go into shock, I beg of you," the Joker said, making a face. He wavered for a few seconds. Then he spoke, slowly, calculating every word. "I have no need of you, I will not lie, for the time being. I don't know what will happen for the next few days, so I am telling you now that it would be better if you just went home."

"No," Kitty Liz told him firmly.

The Joker made a face again.

"Or.. you can entertain the idea that you are still my hostage..."

Kitty Liz's face brightened up.

"But," the Joker continued, "I would like you to leave me for now."

Kitty Liz's face fell just as quickly as it had brightened up. She opened her mouth to protest, but the Joker interrupted her.

"Just for the time being! When I'll need you, I'll call you! I mean, I DO have you card." He flipped it out of his chest pocket, and showed it to her.

Kitty Liz nodded, composed. Feeling dizzy - she was so tired - she got up slowly, and staggered over to her scooter. She climbed onto it, its familiarity immediately making her more comfortable. She gave the Joker a weak smile.

"I will be expecting some chaos from you soon," she said. "And a phone call."

"I can guarantee you both. I thank you for ruining your life today."

Kitty Liz grinned.

"It was my pleasure."

* * *

It was only curiosity that brought her back to her apartment building. She paused across the street from it, looking up to the sixth floor where her apartment was. She could see through the window that the light was on, and that people were walking inside. Cops. It was quite fine, really - just what she expected and prepared for. She continued along the emptying streets. About a half-hour later, she arrived at the seafront. A long, pebbled stretch of beach lay in front of her, and on the beach was scattered a small collection of beach-houses. The one that interested her was at the very end, where the pebbles met a dark, sheer cliff. She made her way down the beach, the only sound present being the rumble of her Vespa's motor. That beach house belonged to one of her friends once, who then moved away without bothering to sell it, and so it stood abandoned. It was a tiny wooden cabin, but Kitty Liz has turned it into her sanctuary. Over the past few weeks, she's equipped it with a generator, refrigerator, lamps, and anything else she may need for survival. The wood stove acted as a convenient source of heat, and her cell phone was her link to the outer world. All in all, she was pleased with the results.

That evening, Kitty Liz didn't even bother to change out of her clothes. Instead, she placed her cell phone onto the table beside her bed, and collapsed in exhaustion. Before she fell asleep, which only took her a couple of moments, she realized that she felt better than she had in a long time. She looked at her cell phone with a smile. He will call.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sending a Message_

The phone call came rather earlier than Kitty Liz expected. She woke with the very first shrill ring, and sat up in her bed with surprise. Her head swam as the blood rushed from it. Nauseous and disoriented, she groped for the phone on the table beside her, but instead of retrieving it, she managed to knock it off and onto the floor. The phone continued to ring loudly, each trill contributing to what she feared were the beginnings of a major migraine. Groaning, she reached over the side of her bed, sweeping the floor with her fingers. Finally, she found it, and picked it up to answer the call.

"Hello…?" she said groggily into the phone. For a few seconds, there was silence, as if the person at the other end was uncertain of his or her actions. Then,

"Where are you?"

The question caught Kitty Liz off-guard.

"Who is this??" she asked quickly, surprised.

"Who do you think??" came the Joker's sarcastic reply.

"Oh.…" Kitty Liz mumbled, cursing herself for being so slow, "What time is it?"

"Time to get up," the Joker informed her with a laugh, "And you never answered my question."

"What question?" Kitty Liz asked, still disoriented. She yawned and dropped back onto her pillow. She heard the Joker sigh on the other end.

"The question I asked you when you picked up the phone! Where are you? God, you're being a lot slower than you were yesterday, woman!"

Kitty Liz attempted to process the Joker's last sentence, wondering if she should be taking it as an insult. She closed her eyes. Boy, that felt good. The seconds passed….

"CATHERINE!" the Joker barked at the other end, momentarily giving her the mental image of her father. Next moment, she was sitting on the edge of her bed, talking fluently into the phone, completely awake.

"I'm at a beach-house at Claystone Beach. There were cops at my apartment last night."

"Anyone know you're there?"

"No, no-one. I doubt they even know that this shack exists."

"Are you planning to live there now?"

"Yes, it's safe."

There was another moment of silence at the other end.

"Now, to business…." the Joker began, and Kitty Liz immediately felt a rush of excitement much like the one that she felt when waking up on the morning of the trial.

"So much for you saying that you don't need me," she chuckled, her spirits rising considerably.

There was another silence, and Kitty Liz began to get worried.

"This is the first time I've heard you laugh.." the Joker said thoughtfully, but immediately changed the subject, "What do you think of the media's take on yesterday's events?"

Kitty Liz blanked.

"I don't know if you realize this," she said slowly, "but I've been sleeping. Like normal people do during the night.."

"I have no room in my life for normal people!" the Joker snorted at the other end, "But I do LOVE the media. There's something you need to hear when you get here."

"Where… exactly?" Kitty Liz asked, suddenly afraid that she missed something again.

There was a pause.

"Oh, right!" the Joker exclaimed, "Do you know the building on Wayne's Avenue which they started building five years ago, but never finished??"

"Mhm," Kitty Liz replied, picturing the skeletal-looking structure in her head as they spoke.

"Meet me there, on the tenth floor," the Joker told her, "Oh, and one more thing - wear the clothes you did yesterday. Don't brush your hair. Don't put on make-up. Don't.. just don't change your look in any way, okay?"

"Will do."

"Oh, and one LAST thing…."

"Yes?"

"Take the scooter."

Then, the line was dead.

Kitty Liz sat for a few moments, staring at her phone, trying to absorb the conversation that just happened. Her instructions were easy-enough, so why was she feeling so apprehensive? She shouldn't be wasting her thoughts on meaningless things, she told herself, and decided to focus on getting ready instead.

She looked at the time and groaned. It was 6:30 A.M. and outside, the cloudless sky was barely pink. It was a cold, clear morning, much like yesterday's was. She shivered at the thought of going outside.

She got her things ready. That was a simple task. She slept in the clothes she wore yesterday - a professional black dress skirt, black nylons, and the white dress shirt. She put on her plain black shoes, and was just about to head out, when she suddenly had the feeling that she was missing something. Her black suit jacket. She stared, dumbfounded, with absolutely no idea where it could be. She searched the cabin - which didn't take long - looking through the empty shelves, under the bed, and even inside the wood stove. Nothing. Frowning, she left the house, locking the door with the key her friend once gave her, and wondering what the Joker would have to say about the situation. Getting onto her Vespa, she thought about what the Joker might need her for in the first place.

She took the backstreets and alleys, trying to stay out of sight as much as possible. When she reached Wayne's Avenue, however, that became a lot harder. So she rode behind the buildings, beside the river's edge, the cold breeze whipping at her face and sending her long, dark-brown hair into a whirlpool around her head. Finally, she reached the abandoned construction site, but for secrecy's sake she hid her scooter in an alley two buildings away. Then, just as the sun began to melt the ice on the puddles, she entered the building and began the long climb to the tenth floor.

By ninth floor, she was literally dragging herself up, stair by stair. The lack of sleep (and the lack of food) were hitting her full-strength this morning. She wheezed up the final dozen of steps and turned onto the landing, where she walked straight into something solid and purple. That something had to grab her by the arm to prevent her from falling back down the stairs.

Kitty Liz looked up at the Joker's surprised face, and started. What she was seeing now shocked her just as much as what she saw yesterday. The Joker has changed back to his usual, classic look. His face was smeared with white, the eyes surrounded by black, and the mouth and scars outlined in brilliant red. His hair was dyed a pale, sickening green. His new suit looked exactly like the old one - a long and purple coat, and bluish-purple striped pants. Underneath was the forest-green vest and the greyish patterned dress shirt, with a speckled tie to finish the ensemble.

The Joker observed her smugly, arms behind his back, as she took in all the changes, especially the face. After Kitty Liz seemed to be able to breath again, he asked

"I see you don't have your jacket."

Kitty Liz's mouth opened as she tried to get words out, taken completely off-guard again. An amused little smile twisted the Joker's lips as he watched her stutter for an explanation. Finally deciding to stop the abuse, he drew his hands out from behind his back. They were gloved in purple, just as Kitty Liz expected, and in them he held none other than her jacket. Kitty Liz gaped at him.

"You forgot it yesterday at the dock," the Joker explained, handing it to her, "Come here, you've got to hear this."

"Why so early?" Kitty Liz managed to say, following him across the floor. The Joker yelped an abrupt little laugh.

"Why not?" he replied, vividly amused.

Kitty Liz glared at him in response, even though she was secretly enjoying his little sarcastic remarks. The Joker suddenly changed the topic.

"Oh, before we start our so-called 'operation', don't you think that I deserve a some kind of explanation?" he asked, skipping over to hover over her.

Kitty Liz looked at him, feeling uncomfortable.

"What do you mean?" she asked casually.

"Yesterday, at the courthouse, when that guard… Samantha?.. said your last name, it immediately rang a bell, and not a pleasant one. Then, last night, I checked your name on the calling card of doom, and my worst fears immediately came true.."

Kitty Liz's eyebrows crawled up her forehead.

"Catherine... Elizabeth... Francis??" the Joker finally choked.

"Please call me Kitty Liz," Kitty Liz replied automatically. The Joker ignored her.

"Gotham's most beloved lawyer??" he asked, incredulous, "… Making sure that single mothers of six get the financial aid their ex-husbands refuse to pay? Getting rapists and pedophiles behind bars with minimal evidence? Forcing that young, selfish couple across the street to pay up their rent to the little old landlord?"

Kitty Liz was speechless for the third time that morning.

"You KNOW me?" she asked, bewildered, "But I really only became well-known AFTER your capture… you would've been at Arkham, how'd you...?"

"Kitty, Kitty, Kitty Liz," the Joker muttered as she stuttered for words, "Arkham might keep us out of the outside world, but the outside world still finds its way into Arkham. We've heard aaaaaaaaall about you. Is it true that you've helped lock away seven of my goons?"

"Yes, I tried to get my hands on as many of the cases as I possibly could, but more and more arrests were made each month, and there was only so much I could take on…." She trailed off as the Joker's expression became menacing.

"I've persuaded all of my clients not to go hard on your men," she explained herself quickly, "Each of them was sent to Arkham. Would you like to know their cell numbers? Oh, and by the way, would you like to know where the rest of your men went? County. Good luck getting them out of there."

The Joker lifted one eyebrow.

"When exactly did you start unofficially working for me?" he asked.

"I've been with you from the very start, Mr. J."

"You come from a good family, part of the Gotham police force, am I right?"

"Yes, they are crime scene investigators... probably were at my apartment last night…."

"Then how did you turn out like this??" The Joker waved his arms up and down in front of her. His voice was low with anger, because he was suddenly faced with a person he didn't quite understand. Kitty Liz backed away from him, her eyebrows furrowed as she, too, suddenly became irritated. The developing migraine, the lack of sleep, the bright sunlight burning her retina, and the Joker being angry instead of thankful all made her feel rather furious. And very dizzy. She swayed and put her hand over her eyes, trying to keep the sun out of her face.

"I don't know," she mumbled in response to the Joker's question, "I really JUST don't know."

The Joker strode over to her, and pried her hand from her face. The sun pierced her eyes with an agonizing effect on her head.

"You're lying," the Joker growled at her, holding her wrist in a painfully hard grasp, "Tell me."

They glowered at each other, but Kitty Liz soon realized the fatal effect his dark eyes had on her. She could not win this fight, and as the Joker's grip on her wrist became tighter and tighter, she faltered.

"Fine!" Kitty Liz yelled, twisting free of his grip, "I'll tell you, but you'll think it ridiculous!"

"Try me," the Joker challenged.

"Alright! You might think I come from the perfect family? Right? Rich. Good connections. Overflowing with love and care. Friends would always say that the Francis children would grow up to be doctors, or police officers, or… lawyers. We were the pampered ones…. People recognized us from a mile away…. People envied us…. But let me tell you - I didn't want to wear that stupid dress when going to the park with my nanny…. I didn't want to take the limo to my friend's birthday…. And I especially did NOT want to go to Law School. I wanted to be an artist…." Kitty Liz was breathing heavily, the yelling not doing much to help her migraine.

"Then why didn't you pursue your dream?" the Joker asked, a shadow flickering behind his uncomprehending eyes.

"Because. Because what choice did I have? What choice do any of us have? In one way or another, we are all secretly controlled. And who controls us? Our parents. Our teachers. Our bosses. Our governments. Your beloved MEDIA. They all control us, and then others control them. And I hate it. All of it. And until a year ago, I thought there was no escape. But then… someone sent out a message…."

"Who was it? The Batman?" Joker smirked.

Kitty Liz laughed.

"No. The Batman's intentions may have seemed good at the time, but all he wants is control like the rest of them. I was intrigued by him at first… but then he just became so BORING."

"So who was it then?"

"I'm sure that you recall the Narrows Incident?"

"Of course, that was quite hilarious."

"I can't agree more. I remember that night very well. I was standing on my balcony. Actually, on the very edge of my balcony. On the other side of the railing. You can imagine the thoughts that were going through my head at that moment…. My TV was blaring in the background. I closed my eyes and was just about to let go, when all I hear from the television is 'This is an emergency report.' My attention was immediately caught. Then they went to the actual report, and there were people screaming in the background. Damned curiosity taking over, I climbed back over the railing to go and see. The report lasted for only a minute or two, because one of the pipes above the reporter's head suddenly EXPLODED and he got gassed. I couldn't stop laughing for the next three minutes, and it was then, lying on the floor, my face full of tears, that I realized that I had gone completely and genuinely insane. My parents called five minutes later, and demanded that I stay at their house for the night. I had to agree, of course - their house is on the outskirts of the city, much further from the Narrows than my apartment. I remember we sat together watching the news later that night, my parents petrified by every word they heard, me - laughing silently into my pillow. That Incident truly changed my outlook on Gotham and its citizens. Not everything was lost. But The League of Shadows was thwarted by the Batman. Then two months ago, even Jonathan Crane was arrested, tried, and put away into the very asylum he ran. I suppose you already know that?"

The Joker nodded once, not wishing to interrupt her.

"I became very bored again," Kitty Liz continued with a frown, "Batman was beginning to make me very pissed-off, and I hoped beyond all hope that he would be caught, and put behind bars once and for all. And if I were the one to lock him away, let's just say it would have been a dream come true."

A smile crawled across the Joker's lips, but once again, he did not wish to interrupt her.

"Of course, that never happened. My job was boring me, my life was boring me, and pretty soon I was thinking about my balcony again. But then YOU made your first appearance. A maniac dressed like a clown, doing small robberies. Nobody thought much of you at first - they haven't quite recovered from the Narrows Incident yet - but I thought you had potential. And let me tell you, you didn't disappoint. All my life, I have been waiting for someone to make an ass out of those in charge, to show them how ridiculous they really are. And that's exactly what you were about. You nearly destroyed the city, right under the police's nose, while barely lifting a finger. I hoped Gotham's citizens might've realized then how flawed their government really is, and how easy it is to overthrow it. I hoped they would get a clue, and demand for something to be done about it. But instead, they turned to the government for help, actually thinking it had the ability to stop you. It was ridiculous, but at least all the panic gave me a good laugh. Finally, Batman got involved and, apparently, he defeated you. That's what everybody said. But I didn't believe it. He may have deterred you, yes, but certainly not stopped. I believed that you won that fight, and that you still had a lot to do. But you were arrested.. and you didn't want a lawyer. I wanted to help, but I just didn't know how. And then I had an idea… an insane idea, and… you know the rest."

Kitty Liz looked at the Joker expectantly, but he said nothing.

"Ya know…" Kitty Liz said, "life seems to be so incredibly dumb, boring, and pointless, that the only way to enjoy it appears to be by taking it as one big, universal joke." She laughed. "And then it doesn't seem so bad. You might actually even find yourself enjoying it. I know I am."

The Joker was grinning a sincerely grateful smile. "Thank you for taking the time to explain. I must admit that everything makes a lot more sense now. And don't feel so bad about not having the Batman in prison. Things wouldn't be half as fun without him."

"Sure," Kitty Liz replied for the sake of closing the topic of her edgy past, "So, what's our plan for today?"

"Don't ask me!" the Joker replied with a laugh, "I don't make the plan. Gotham makes the plan."

Kitty Liz gave the Joker an uncomprehending look. The Joker clasped his hands together and rubbed them enthusiastically.

"Listen to this, and you'll know exactly what I mean," he said, dragging her along to where a small stereo stood on the floor. He took a cassette out of his pocket, grinning.

"I recorded part of the news report from the radio this morning, which you for some reason refused to listen to."

Kitty Liz opened her mouth to remind him once again that she was sleeping at the time, but he interrupted her before she could say anything.

"You simply must listen to this - you'll love it."

Hastily, he stuck the cassette into the stereo, and pressed play, looking insanely excited. The speakers hissed to life.

"… The Joker has escaped from his own trial yesterday afternoon, it has been confirmed by representatives from within the city's police force. Two guards are receiving medical attention following the Joker's attack. One of them is in critical condition. It has been confirmed that the Joker has taken a hostage - Miss Catherine Elizabeth Francis," (Kitty Liz groaned at the mention of her full name) "Gotham's well-beloved lawyer, daughter of James and Elizabeth Francis, well-known for their contribution to Gotham's fight against crime. Catherine's status and whereabouts are unknown, and the same remains to be said about the Joker. What awaits Gotham now that the homicidal maniac is back on the streets? What demands will he make this time? Will Batman, the hero who turned into a criminal, fight him... or join him? What happens to Catherine Elizabeth? We will keep you posted and up-to-date…"

The stereo stuttered to a silence. The Joker waited for Kitty Liz's reaction. She however, was deep in thought. The report reminded her of a question that she had burning in her mind ever since the night Batman was accused of murder. She was quite sure that the Joker was the only person who could give her the correct answer.

"Did the Batman really do all those crimes he was accused of?"

"Of course not!" she Joker burst out, sounding incredulous, "As if that wasn't obvious-enough! He covered for Harvey, to save his image for the city's sake."

Kitty Liz nodded, thoughtful.

"I thought there was something fishy about that story," she replied. Then she pointed to the stereo. "So how does that report relate to today's plan?"

The Joker was looking incredulous again.

"You've heard what that woman said, right?? She inquired as to what my demands will be, and what will happen to YOU."

Kitty Liz gulped. This was more serious than she had hoped. The Joker paused to watch her expression curiously. Then he continued.

"I can't keep the lady disappointed. So I decided to make a little video, and you get to be the star."

Kitty Liz gulped again, and the Joker laughed at her evident alarm.

"And what am I supposed to do," Kitty Liz asked, trying to sound calm. The Joker laughed again.

"Just sit still and look like I'm about to kill you," he said through his laughter.

"And will you?" Kitty Liz whispered, without thinking. The Joker paused, studying her horrified expression. Then a big grin parted his lips.

"Silly Kitty," he said humorously, poking her cheek, "Why would I kill you now? What if the lady on the radio likes our little movie and demands a sequel, hmmm?"

Kitty Liz stared, speechless again, not sure if she should laugh or run away. Fast.

The Joker pointed to a column in the centre of the room.

"Go and sit with your back against the pillar, and put your hands behind it as if though you're handcuffed to it."

Kitty Liz obeyed, actually thankful to be sitting down, what with her lack of energy. She put her arms around the pillar like the Joker told her to, and tried to look as miserable as she could. The Joker studied her for a few moments, and then decided that she clearly didn't look quite miserable-enough. He crouched beside her and, scooping up a handful of dust and dirt off the floor, he spread it all over her face, and down the front of her white shirt. He stood back up, scrutinizing her again, still not quite satisfied. So he kicked off her right shoe, and ruffled her hair until it looked like a haystack. He cocked his head to one side as he considered what else he could do. Finally, he took a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket, and actually handcuffed her hands behind the column. He examined the results once more as Kitty Liz struggled with her bonds, true terror now etched on her face.

"There we go," the Joker said, finally satisfied, "MUCH better. Keep it up, you're doing a WONDERFUL job."

Kitty Liz continued struggling, watching as the Joker strode over to where the stereo stood and picked up a small video camera lying beside it. He marched back to where she sat - bound, helpless, and terrified. Turning the camera on, he sat down in front of her, stretching out his legs, and revealing brightly-patterned socks. Even through she was horrified, Kitty Liz couldn't help but giggle at the sight. The Joker stared at her.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, "Get back into character!"

She did, reluctantly. The Joker pointed the tiny camera at her, and a faint beeping sound indicated that it was recording.

"Catherine Elizabeth Francis," came the Joker's voice. It was barely a whisper, but it curdled the blood in Kitty Liz's veins. "Tell me, what were doing at my trial yesterday?"

Kitty Liz's lips parted a fraction as she inhaled a shuddering breath. She wasn't acting at all. The Joker smiled behind the camera, and his voice became a drawl.

"You were curious, no doubt," came his voice, oozing with hatred and disgust, "Probably wanted to fulfill some internal need or craving. Am I right, is that what it was? All you wanted was to see was the terrible, HORRIBLE Joker finally behind bars. You wanted to be there, when history was made. Well, you've certainly got more than you asked for, HAVEN'T YOU?" The Joker suddenly sprang to his feet, and a second later the camera was only inches from her face. "Now tell me," the Joker said, his voice soothing but lethal, "you're making history here, now, with me… how does it feel? No? Fine, don't talk." The Joker turned the camera around to face him. "And I would've thought she'd want to cry for her mommy to come and get her." The Joker shrugged at the camera, wandering away from Kitty Liz as he talked to his invisible audience. "Now, what I demand is very simple. And this time Batman can go hang himself from a rooftop for all I care - I've had enough of his shenanigans. What I demand is that you release inmate number 3110 from Arkham Asylum. That is it, that is all. And if not, then you better believe me - I will kill off every petty lawyer in this town, one by one, starting with Miss Francis over there."

He was suddenly running at her, drawing a switchblade from his pocket, and giggling with utter enjoyment. As Kitty Liz squirmed and cowered against the column, he jumped on her, the camera landing sideways onto the floor. Kitty Liz watched the knife collide with her side, and the blade disappear completely. She screamed, even though she felt no pain. She pushed the Joker away from her, and he fell onto his back in a fit of laughter. He groped for the camera on the floor, and stopped the recording, still laughing uncontrollably. Feverishly, Kitty Liz fingered her side where the Joker had struck her, but to her surprise, felt no blood. Perplexed, she looked up at the Joker. He was attempting to sit up, wiping his eyes. Shaking with silent laughter, he held up the knife and stabbed his hand several times, and each time the blade disappeared completely, retreating into the handle. Kitty Liz looked at him with a mixture of disbelief, fury, and genuine relief. Noting her expression, the Joker fell onto his back once again, laughing even more loudly than before.

It took a couple of minutes for the Joker to finally calm himself. By this time, Kitty Liz had twisted herself around the pillar until her fingers made contact with one of the bobby pins that the Joker shook out of her hair when he ruffled it. She undid her handcuffs, and was now standing on the edge of the building, letting the fresh air blow all traces of panic from her mind. The Joker joined her, the makeup running from his eyes, a giant, crazy grin on his face. He held the camcorder in his hands, behind his back, and was looking expectantly at the street below. A few silent moments passed.

"Who is inmate number 3110?" Kitty Liz broke the silence. The Joker jumped at her words.

"Nobody," he said lazily, "Just the first number that came to my head. Just like I said before, I don't make plans."

"Do you think they'll let whoever it is go?"

The Joker laughed.

"Weren't you listening to my words at the trial yesterday? The people of Gotham are too damn stupid and proud to let such a thing happen. They'll probably transfer the poor fella to a different asylum."

"Will you actually go on a lawyer-killing spree?"

"Why, is there anyone in particular who you'd want to be taken care of first?" the Joker said with a snort, but met Kitty's dead-serious stare, "Look, I don't know, okay? Maybe, maybe not. It all depends on what that lady on the radio makes of the idea. If she likes it, we go through with it. If not, then we don't. It's simple."

Kitty Liz decided that that was probably the best answer she would get, and changed the subject.

"Are we waiting for someone?" she inquired, looking at the street below.

"Ah," the Joker replied, watching as an SUV pulled up in front of the building. Kitty Liz watched as a woman and two men climbed out of the car below, and began to scan the floors of the building, their hands shielding their eyes from the brilliant sunlight.

"Diggory, Samson, and Floyst," the Joker said, waving at them enthusiastically. They waved back warily. Kitty Liz couldn't help but pull the Joker away from the edge.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"They're my inside men… and woman… for the afternoon news. They deliver my messages to the people who then put them on television, and everybody's happy. They're to be trusted - they get paid too much for these recordings." He was swinging the video camera back and worth over the edge of the building, and then let it go. Kitty Liz gasped as the camera landed in a few small pieces at the feet of the Joker's buddies. They began to pick up the pieces enthusiastically, like dogs over scattered bones.

"But you just destroyed the recording!" Kitty Liz protested, as the Joker watched his doggies smugly.

"No, no," he assured her, "I may have destroyed the camera, but they will get the video out. They're nerds, after all." He got tired of watching the doggies below, and laid down on the floor instead, his arms behind his head, and ankles crossed. He closed his eyes, soaking in the sun.

"They've probably already called the police," he informed Kitty Liz casually.

"They'd have to, or else they can be found guilty by association," Kitty Liz said, nodding. She sat down on the floor beside the Joker. The SUV below pulled away from the building, and was soon out of sight.

"I've missed the sunlight," the Joker mused to nobody in particular. Kitty Liz was watching the street below intently. Suddenly, four police cars pulled around the corner.

"Uh, Mr. J?" Kitty Liz pulled on his pant leg.

"The winters at Arkham are terrible. I like the outdoors, you know…." the Joker continued to muse, ignoring her. The police cars have now stopped in front of the building, and cop after cop was emerging stealthily. Kitty Liz pulled harder at the Joker's pant leg.

"Erm, Mr. J, we have company!"

"Company is always pleasant," the Joker mumbled in a barely-audible whisper. Below them, the cops were entering the building. Kitty Liz jumped up with a panicked yelp, and jabbed the Joker hard in the chest. He opened his eyes with a faint "Hmmm?"

"The cops," Kitty Liz gasped, "they're coming up the stairs. We're trapped here -"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, woman, breathe!" the Joker exclaimed, getting up, "There are ways to get down from a building other than by steps and ladders!"

"What do you mean?" Kitty Liz gasped again, breathing heavily.

"I enjoy living on the edge," the Joker replied, going over to the staircase and observing the procession of cops below, "Oh, and if anyone asks, it was Batman's idea."

"What?" Kitty Liz asked, completely confused. The Joker rolled his eyes and led her over to the opposite side of the building. In front of them hung a single harness, attached to the ledge above by a curious-looking pulley system.

"Just as I said, Batman's idea," the Joker said, strapping himself in, "He is the one who downright refuses to use the stairs."

"I hope to God that you aren't assuming that lawyers can fly," Kitty Liz said in a panicked voice, not spotting a second harness.

"Um," the Joker said, "don't take this is an insult or anything, but when I got here this morning, I wasn't quite sure if I was going to let you live through that video." He grimaced at Kitty's horrified expression. "So I only bothered to bring one harness. However, since you ARE still alive, we will have to do with the one." He grimaced again as Kitty's horror increased two-fold.

"What?" she hissed.

"Blame Batman," the Joker said with a shrug, "but later. As for now, if you want to get down, you'll have to hold on to me." He approached her confidently, holding out his arms. She, however, shied away from him awkwardly.

"Ugh," the Joker sighed and rolled his eyes, swinging off the ledge so that he hung in midair, arms crossed in frustration, "What is it? Is it the scars?"

Kitty Liz shook her head. She had no idea what it was herself, but she felt that it wasn't good. A sound behind her made her jump. The cops were coming up the last flight of stairs. Leaving herself no time to think, she did a running jump into the Joker's outstretched purple arms, and they began to hurtle downwards. She closed her eyes, tightening her grip around the Joker's neck, and around his waist. The Joker, however, did not hold on to her - he was controlling the harness. His freshly-dyed green hair flew into Kitty Liz's face, and she couldn't help but notice that she liked his smell. Curious, she pressed her nose to the collar of his jacket. That seemed to have acquired the smell of the building they have just been in - it smelled like stale, old paint. Kitty Liz drew back, but she was still curious. She looked up, and then down - they were about two thirds of the way to the ground. The Joker was too preoccupied with the harness, so perhaps he wouldn't notice what Kitty Liz was about to do. Very carefully, she pushed her face past his flying hair, past him coat collar, until her nose was almost touching his neck. She inhaled again. Yes, that same attractive smell which she couldn't quite explain. She must've lingered a fraction of a second too long, because the Joker suddenly moved his head, and Kitty's nose collided with his neck. The Joker jolted at the contact, and let go of the harness in surprise. They free-fell the last two metres, with the Joker landing on his feet, but with Kitty Liz, in accordance with the ever-faithful laws of inertia, losing her grip on him and landing heavily on her backside. They stared at each other in surprise for a moment, and then, to Kitty Liz's greatest annoyance, the Joker burst into another fit of laughter.

"You're sadistic!" she accused him down from the pavement, only making him laugh harder.

"Where did you leave your scooter?" he asked her, holding back his laughter with difficulty. She got up shakily off the ground, and gave him a dirty look before leading the way alongside the river.

"You know, I've decided that I really DO need an accomplice," the Joker said happily, "Something fun. Something that'd make me laugh. I never would've thought that you would fit that category, but you're proving me wrong again and again. You're hilarious. And even better, you're UNINTENTIONALLY hilarious."

The Joker laughed as Kitty Liz glared at him.

"Okay, fine, I'll admit it - I lied about the harnesses. I really only had just the one. I had no intention of killing you this morning, I swear. To tell you the truth, I actually made you something last night."

"A present?" Kitty Liz asked, pleasantly surprised.

"Yes," the Joker replied, reaching into an inside pocket of his coat, and retrieving a sleek, silky, black mask. Kitty Liz gasped. Without a second thought, she flung her arms around him in an awkward embrace. The Joker didn't hug her back, but tolerated her affection with mild surprise. A moment later, he was free again.

"It's beautiful!" Kitty Liz chirped, taking the mask from his hands, and running the smooth cloth through her fingers. She laid it against her eyes, and let the Joker fasten it behind her head. After he was done, she turned around to face him again to get his opinion. He smiled widely as he scrutinized her. He poked her cheek again, and Kitty Liz felt herself going red in the face.

"You make me laugh," he told her, laughing, "and I seriously think that you should keep the mask."

"Thank you," she replied earnestly. Then she suddenly stopped frozen in her tracks, a horrified expression on her face.

"What?" the Joker asked, but Kitty Liz burst out laughing. The Joker stared at her, eyebrows raised.

"I forgot my jacket in the building!" Kitty Liz exclaimed, shuddering with laughter. The Joker looked up at the sky with a loud, dramatic "Uh", and buried his face in his purple-gloved hands. Kitty Liz laughed until her eyes were filled with tears.

"So," the Joker said, "now that you are officially my accomplice, we need to take care of a couple of things. First things first, let me see your cell phone."

Kitty Liz handed him her black Nokia, uncertain and yet eager to do whatever she was told. The Joker gave the phone one lazy look, and then cast it into the depths of the river. Kitty Liz stared after it, appalled.

"It would be very foolish for you to keep that," the Joker explained, "They'd be able to track you using it, and I can't believe that you haven't realized that by now."

"I did think of it," Kitty Liz said in her defence, "but I decided to keep it until you contacted me. And speaking of that - how do you plan on keeping in touch now?"

"I'll think of something."

"We're here!"

They rounded a corner of a shabby-looking building, and, hidden in the alley, stood Kitty Liz's scooter. The Joker got onto the end. Backwards.

"Um…" Kitty Liz began.

"What??" the Joker snapped, but she could feel the humour behind his tone.

"Oh never mind," she said, getting onto her seat, "Anywhere in particular?"

"Yes - just follow the directions I give you."

Kitty Liz tried to hide her annoyance.

"And where will the directions take me??" she asked again, turning around in her seat, and surprised to see that the Joker twisted around to face her. He had a peculiar smile on his face.

"Oh, you'll like it - believe me."

* * *

It took about one half-hour of backstreets, alleys, and empty lots to finally reach their destination. Driving the scooter was a real challenge for Kitty Liz during this trip, as the Joker, behind her, was unable to sit still. He changed position several times during the trip, turning around to face her, and then turning around to face backwards again. Other than that, he also made various, distracting remarks on the most arbitrary of subjects. For example, after a good 15 minutes of debating the existence of free will (with himself), he declared that his current desire was to take the life of every single Gotham citizen, armed with nothing but a geometry set. Kitty Liz almost rode into the curb.

After she began to fear that the psychological damage was becoming permanent, Kitty Liz was finally ordered to slow down and stop. They found themselves beside what appeared to be an oversized, two-storey garage. The river, which they had more-or-less been following, flowed on one side of the peculiar building. The rest of the building was surrounded by an empty lot. The Joker hopped off the scooter, and motioned Kitty Liz to follow him. When they entered the building, Kitty Liz saw that it was actually separated into two apartments. The Joker continued up to the second floor, and stopped before the only door there. It was old, with peeling paint, and it creaked loudly as the Joker pushed it open. He smiled that odd little smile again as he waited for Kitty Liz to enter. Cautiously, she stepped into the shadows beyond, and was presented with the most confusing, most erratic, most delightful sight she had ever seen.

"This," said the Joker, behind her, "is where I live."


	3. Chapter 3

~ The Birth Of a Villainess ~

The Joker's home was the most wonderfully chaotic mess Kitty Liz had ever laid eyes on. The hallway she was in, dimly lit by whatever light penetrated the curtained windows in the room beyond, contained hardly enough room for one person to walk through. The rest of the space was taken up by boxes and other large objects which stood unclear in the dim lighting. Behind her, the Joker flicked on the hallway light and the objects suddenly came into focus. She walked down the hallway, taking note of everything that she passed. A closet was on her left. It was open, and Kitty Liz could see a messy collection of clothes inside. About five pairs of the same brown shoes were scattered about the floor, and a messy array of coats was on the hangers. Most of the coats looked pretty ordinary, except for a couple that caught Kitty Liz's eye. She examined them further, and realized that they weren't coats at all. They were an officer's uniform and a nurse's dress. A wide grin spread across Kitty Liz's face, and a quick glance at the Joker showed her that he was just as amused as her. With increased enthusiasm and a certain energy about her walk, Kitty Liz continued down the hallway.

The contents of the boxes were just as erratic as the contents of the closet. One was filled to the top with the vastest collection of knives that Kitty Liz has ever seen. The next was a similar story, but in this case, the box was filled with guns. Kitty Liz kept walking, her eyes falling next on an ironing board that was draped completely by scraps and pieces of material. A dresser stood beside it with one of its drawers open, and inside it was what looked like the contents of several sowing kits. Kitty Liz found this curious, but was too distracted by everything else to ask. Finally, she reached the last object in the hallway. It was a familiar shape, and even though it was draped by a sheet, Kitty Liz already knew what it was. She pulled the sheet off the frame, and turned to the Joker with a laugh.

"You bike?" she asked, attempting to stifle her laughter, but the mental image of the Joker on a bicycle did not facilitate that.

"Not regularly," the Joker growled back, his tone only making Kitty Liz laugh harder.

"Get a move on," he said from behind her, and shoved her into the next room.

This, by common sense, had to be the living room. But judging by the state it was in, that conclusion was hard to come by. It was the centre of the apartment, at least, because Kitty Liz could now see the doorways to three other rooms, and what lay beyond. There was a kitchen and a bathroom to the right. The bathroom, even from that distance, looked like it had a paint factory explode inside it. There was also a single bedroom to the left, but from the way things looked in that room, it looked as if it had not been used in a very long time.

The most amazing room in the apartment remained to be the living room. It was by far the messiest, and it quickly became Kitty Liz's favourite. As she walked around, eyes wide with awe, and trying not to step on anything, she noticed that the Joker was staring at her.

"What?" she asked, her eyes continuing to wander.

"It's weird, isn't it?" the Joker asked, "I know you aren't used to this kind of a mess. Maybe I should clean up later.."

Kitty Liz stared at the Joker, horror-struck. He was right, of course. Having grown up in a household where maids came in every week to clean the house, this was very unusual to her. But she was loving it.

"No, no, no!" she cried out, "I love the mess! Order is boring, plain. Chaos is bursting with colours and textures!"

"So you won't be bursting to clean in here?" he asked carefully.

"Oh God no! I hate cleaning."

"Good," the Joker replied, "because so do I."

Laughing, Kitty Liz spun around the room, trying to take in everything at once, but even though the room was small, it was filled with more things than one could imagine. The burgundy-carpeted floor was almost completely hidden by scraps of fabric, rubber clown masks, knives, and empty face paint tubes. Scattered here and there, however, were pages of the Gotham Times from months ago. But they were drawn and written on, and certain words, titles, or even entire articles were pasted over. Curious, Kitty Liz picked up one of the newspaper pages, and her eyes immediately fell onto a graph titled _Funniest Ways to Die_, pasted over a graph displaying the results of the Gotham City District Attorney election.

"Allergies?" she asked, giggling.

"Oh that," the Joker said, walking over with a grin, "That is what happens when I try to waste time being productive. I even invested in a typewriter to optimize the quality of my work." He pointed at a small desk in the corner of the room, mounted by an ancient-looking black typewriter.

"You should sell these for money, seriously, they are ingenious!" Kitty Liz laughed, examining the rest of the paper.

"Or… I could steal money from the bank, whatever works, really," the Joker shrugged.

After she was finished with the newspaper page, Kitty Liz dropped it back onto the floor, and proceeded to explore the rest of the living room. There were cupboards along the walls, but those were either empty or filled with more cloth, masks, and knives. There was another dresser across from the only window the room contained, and on top of that stood an old television set. Before the dresser stood a small, battered sofa, and beside it a large chair. Kitty Liz hadn't paid much attention to it up until this moment, but was suddenly very aware of how strange it looked.

"What the…?" she asked, approaching it cautiously.

"How about some light?" the Joker called from the window, and pulled back the curtains.

Bright morning light flooded the living room, giving it an even more chaotic look. The chair stood clearly in front of Kitty Liz's eyes, and she finally began to notice the details. For one, there were straps that bound your arms and legs to the chair. Second, the chair had a complicated wiring system running over its entire structure. One set of wires was connected to a metal cap, which was sitting on top of the chair.

"Is that…." Kitty Liz began, her eyes shiny with excitement, "Is that an electric chair?"

The Joker nodded, smiling.

"Where did you get it? Does it work?" Kitty Liz blabbered in response.

"It was an artefact at County. I couldn't resist stealing it. Does it work? I don't know. Wanna try it out?"

The Joker laughed as Kitty Liz suddenly looked wary.

"No, it doesn't work," he assured her, then picked up the cap, put it on top of his head, and plopped down into the chair, "This is how I watch the news."

Kitty Liz giggled a little, then sat down on the sofa.

"When do you think they'll show the video?" she asked curiously.

"12 o'clock news, I'm guessing," the Joker replied. Then he turned to her, his expression suddenly serious. "Follow me into the kitchen," he ordered.

In the middle of the kitchen stood a wooden table with peeling white paint. It was surrounded by four white chairs which looked just as cheap and old as the table did. On the table stood a little vase, but, to Kitty Liz's surprise, it was not filled with flowers, but rather with sharpened pencils.

"Pencils?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, very handy," the Joker replied, his lips curving into a smile.

Kitty Liz smiled, a little confused, and then her eyes fell on the refrigerator. Without a second thought, she marched over to where it stood, flung it open, and began to forage inside.

"Hungry, are we?" the Joker asked, taking his turn to be surprised.

"Hmmm?" Kitty Liz asked, turning around to glance at the Joker.

The Joker gave her a pointed look.

"Oh!" Kitty Liz exclaimed, suddenly feeling very awkward and embarrassed, "It's just that I haven't eaten anything since yesterday morning." She looked at the Joker shyly.

The Joker waved it off. "Go ahead - there's barely anything in there anyways."

"Thank you," Kitty Liz said gratefully, and turned her attention back to the fridge. She emerged a minute later holding a pair of bags, and the Joker noticed that she was giving him a very un-amused look. He opened his mouth to ask, but Kitty Liz beat him to it.

"Baby carrots and grapes?" she asked, giving the bags a shake, "That's the only thing you have??"

The Joker was looking amused. "I did warn you I had barely anything," he reminded her.

Kitty Liz sighed loudly, rolling her eyes. Then she glared at him. "Got a sieve?" she asked bitterly.

"Top shelf," the Joker replied with a chuckle.

Kitty Liz emptied the contents of both bags into the sieve, and went to rinse them at the sink. After she was done, she went to join the Joker at the kitchen table, where he sat watching her closely.

"What?" she asked, stuffing a handful of carrots into her mouth.

"Just trying to picture you with a gun, running around killing people," the Joker replied with a shrug, picking up a grape and placing it in his mouth. He continued to watch her curiously.

Kitty Liz swallowed her half-chewed carrots painfully. "And?" she asked.

"Well…" the Joker began, "Let's just say that you don't look that frightening, the way you are right now."

Kitty Liz was suddenly reminded of the mask she was wearing, and she fingered it nervously. The Joker smiled.

"That mask isn't frightening by itself, at least not to me. There needs to be more than just that to go with your persona." He was staring at her, unsuccessfully trying to convey a message.

"What do you mean?" she finally asked. The Joker sighed, and got up off his chair forcefully.

"Kitty, a villain can either blend in or stand out. I stand out. That was my choice. Now I need to know yours. Do you want to blend in or stand out?"

Kitty Liz remained thoughtfully silent for a moment. Then she placed a couple of grapes into her mouth, and spoke carefully.

"Well I guess that depends on the kind of work you will get me to do."

The Joker opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it, suddenly looking uncertain. He sat back into his chair, eyebrows knitted together.

"Good point," he replied, then disappeared into thought.

Kitty Liz continued to eat, awaiting his response. She realised with a sick feeling that she had absolutely no idea what the Joker could use her for.

"I guess," the Joker finally said about a minute later, "I guess it would be better for you to blend in."

"Okay. But what will I be doing? What will be my job?" Kitty Liz pressed on.

"Things that involve secrecy, for the most part. Delivering messages, then getting away without getting caught, you know? You are pretty good at climbing walls, aren't you? I'm guessing you will be out at night for the most part. You will need to be stealthy, to get around and not be seen. Those kinds of things."

"Alright, so I'll blend in," Kitty Liz nodded. She was tapping her fingers on the table energetically as an idea suddenly formed in the back of her mind. "Do you have any paper?" she asked the Joker excitedly.

He returned a moment later, blowing dust off a stack of blank paper. Kitty Liz took it from him, and grabbed a pencil from the vase. She started sketching, a smile of inspiration on her face. Curious, the Joker moved his chair over to sit beside her. She was drawing the outline of a feminine body, but stopped when her drawing wasn't even half-finished. She turned to the Joker, smiling happily, and asked

"So if I will be out at night a lot, and my job, whatever it may be, asks for stealth, then I should be wearing black, am I right?"

"I should say so," the Joker replied.

"And my clothing must not be loose, so as not to catch on things, right?"

"Of course," came the Joker's reply.

Kitty Liz turned back to her unfinished drawing, and continued sketching until she's drawn a close-fitting one-piece suit over her shape. She looked back at the Joker, to get his opinion.

"Oh, I see what you're doing there," he replied, scrutinizing her picture, "So that's like what? A black jumpsuit?"

"Yes."

"But don't you think that's a bit… unpractical?"

"What?"

"I've had my fair share of jumpsuits at Arkham - they're awful hard to get into and take off. You should be able to change quickly."

"Well, okay, what if we separate the suit into two parts?"

Kitty Liz erased the middle section of her drawing, and then redrew the lines, forming a top and pants. She made a face, unsatisfied with her picture, then shook her head.

"I just can't get the image of that shirt getting caught on a nail out of my head," Kitty Liz said, sliding her hands through her hair undecidedly, "That would also be highly unpractical."

"Well, what if your shirt could be connected to your pants AFTER you put it on?" the Joker suggested, "Maybe they can be zipped together."

"That's a wonderful idea!" Kitty Liz exclaimed, erasing again, "But I don't like the idea of zippers. Too problematic and bound to break quickly. Maybe clips?"

"I don't see why not," the Joker agreed.

"Okay," Kitty Liz said, tapping her pencil on the table. She stared at her pencil and laughed. "Hey, you were right! These DID come in handy! But back to business. I'm thinking clips on leather straps. The edges of the shirt should be outlined with leather, for strength. Then, thin leather strips, attached to my shirt at the top, will clip on to my belt. And then my top will not flop around idiotically, savvy?"

"So you want a leather strap…"

"Every other inch of the bottom of my shirt."

"Hmm, and how long should each one be? Three inches?"

"Sure, why not," Kitty Liz replied, continuing to sketch, "Maybe half a centimetre wide each, you know?"

"Yes, it can be done," the Joker replied with a nod.

Kitty Liz gave him a warm smile. "Thanks," she said, "but what about the rest of my clothes?"

"Yes?" the Joker asked.

"I was thinking that I will need to wear gloves, right? So I don't leave fingerprints."

"Yeah."

"Okay, so I'll need a pair of gloves, flexible and slip-resistant."

"Of course."

"And I will need comfortable shoes if I will be climbing a lot," Kitty Liz observed, "Flexible, like ballet slippers, but at the same time a lot more durable."

The Joker nodded with a faint "Mhm".

"And I was just thinking, if leather straps will join my shirt to my pants, then why can't the edges of my gloves clip on to my sleeves in a similar manner? And the bottom of my pants to my shoes?"

"As long as you include everything in your pictures, dimensions, colours, materials, it can be done."

"Materials?"

"Yes, like leather, or cotton, or - I don't know, cashmere."

"Oh, um… well, my shoes should probably be made from leather. But my shirt and pants should be made from a more stretchable material. Like the material my mask is made from."

"That's a good idea," came the Joker's reply.

"But that won't work for my gloves though, it's way too slippery."

"Rubber gloves, then? Like these?" the Joker asked, motioning at his own. He took one off and handed it to her for examination. Kitty Liz slipped it on tentatively, then frowned.

"What?" the Joker asked.

"I just remembered something," Kitty Liz sniffed. The Joker stared her expectantly.

"I can't wear rubber gloves," she continued, "It gets under my fingernails and itches like mad."

"What does, exactly?"

"The hell if I knew. It's a pity though. Rubber gloves would've meant good grip when climbing."

"Is it only your fingernails?"

"Well, yes."

"So what if we cut the fingertips off the gloves? It won't help much with the print issue, but it works fine for the grip. What do you think?"

"Hey, I think that might work! Good idea! Thanks!"

"Anything else?" the Joker asked.

"You know… I think that's everything…." Kitty Liz said, frowning as she tried to remember anything that she may have missed.

"Great!" the Joker cried out, getting up from his chair, suddenly enthusiastic, "Now all I have to do is measure you and then we'll be all set to go!"

Kitty Liz smiled happily, also getting up. The Joker led her aside and took a measuring tape out of his pocket. He took about ten different measurements of different parts of her body, in complete silence, while she tried not to smile too obviously at the contact. After he jotted down each measurement beside the diagram, he turned to Kitty Liz, and gave her an exaggeratedly serious look.

"Now, is that ALL?" he articulated slowly.

Kitty Liz looked at the diagram carefully, checking that all the colours and proportions and materials were labelled. It was fine, but she had a nagging feeling that some small detail was missing. A mischievous smile lit up her face as she picked up the pencil once again, and proceeded to draw one final article of clothing.

"What's THAT?" the Joker asked, giving Kitty Liz a weird look.

"It's a skirt."

"A skirt to go over your pants?? Why???"

"I just think it completes the ensemble, that's all."

"Don't you think it will catch on things?! Something we've been trying to AVOID."

"Well, it's a very floppy and slippery skirt, so it will just slide over any potential nails."

The Joker looked at Kitty Liz incredulously for a moment, then his lips split into a grin.

"You don't want a cape, do you?" he asked.

Kitty Liz laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. Capes are overkill."

"No offence to Batman, I presume?"

"Of course not," Kitty Liz replied, giving the Joker a sideways look, then bursting out laughing.

"Now we get to the fun part," the Joker said with a maniacal grin, sitting back down. Kitty Liz sat back down too, and began stuffing the remains of the contents of the sieve into her mouth.

"Fun part? I thought this was fun," she remarked.

"Sure," the Joker replied, "but weapons make everything more fun."

"Weapons?" Kitty Liz asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes, and not just some old bent rusty razor blade taped to the back of a business card. I'm talking about guns, knives, explosives - the real deal."

Kitty Liz's eyes were burning with an undeniable fire as she leaned towards the Joker, mesmerized.

"So, tell me, Kitty Liz Francis, what kinds of weapons do YOU like?" the Joker asked her.

"I like big guns… and knives… and explosives," came Kitty Liz's breathless reply.

The Joker sighed. "Well, an idiot can fire a gun or set off a bomb, but knives… knives are a different matter. Are you sure that you want a knife?"

Kitty Liz nodded enthusiastically.

The Joker sighed again. "Well then," he continued, taking a little potato-peeler knife from his pocket, "why don't you peel this potato for me?" And he pulled a potato from his pocket as well.

"Tell me, Mr. J," Kitty Liz said, taking the potato and the knife from him, "what kinds of other surprises do you normally keep in your pockets?"

"I'm not sure if you want to know," he told her seriously, "Now peel."

Kitty Liz never had to peel a potato in her life, but she liked to do so anyways just to feel 'normal'. This was no strange task to her, and she set upon it with ease. But the knife was a lot sharper than she expected, and cut with a lot less force than Kitty Liz thought. Underestimating her own strength, she ended up cutting off way too much of the potato, and even caught her finger with the blade.

The Joker licked his lips in disappointment as Kitty Liz smiled at him sheepishly. He took a Band-Aid from his pocket, and stuck it over her cut, rather roughly.

"You've got spirit, I'll give you that," he told her, "But that was way too rushed, and unnecessarily rough. Not the way I do it. But in essence, it's not exactly how you do it, but with what attitude. And I like your attitude, so I'll get you some knives."

Kitty Liz stared at the Joker like a child promised a brand-new bike. The Joker gave her a quick smile, then got up from the chair, throwing a glance at the kitchen clock.

"The twelve o'clock news will be on soon - they will probably be showing off our little video. Shall we go and see?"

"Absolutely!"

They walked into the living room, and the Joker politely offered Kitty Liz the electric chair. She accepted the offer with much zest, and even though the chair turned out to be very hard and uncomfortable, she thoroughly enjoyed the experience. The Joker, meanwhile, lounged on the sofa. The news report came on four minutes later, and just from the previews of the stories to be discussed, it was evident that the Joker's video was their biggest news. They even opened their newscast with it. A viewer discretion warning came on, and then they showed the video.

It looked so real. As if Kitty Liz and the Joker weren't actually acting when they filmed it. Which was partially true. The menace in the Joker's voice and the terror on Kitty Liz's face were very real indeed. Even as she watched the video now, Kitty Liz felt herself believing every moment of it. And she knew that every other Gotham citizen watching this, most likely including her parents, was believing it too. She smiled at the very thought of the effect this video must be having on the City. She watched the Joker state his demand, then 'stab' her with his knife. She knew that, on the other side of the City, her parents must be panicking and probably calling up Commissioner James Gordon, trying to get every detail they possibly could. She also knew that there was absolutely nothing he could tell them, nothing, other than that they found her dirty beaten-up suit jacket left behind at the crime scene. Kitty Liz's smile turned into a smirk as the scene played itself in her head.

On the sofa beside her, the Joker was trying very hard not to laugh. Movie time was over, and the audience was now being assured that no inmates were going to be released and that the Joker's threats should not be taken seriously.

"So I guess they don't approve of my lawyer-killing idea," the Joker laughed, no longer able to control himself, "And that's a pity, because I wouldn't have minded carving a smile into that John Creed's ugly little face." He continued laughing for a couple more moments, but then was completely serious again. He turned off the TV.

"It's time for you to leave," he said, turning to Kitty Liz. She stared at him in surprise.

"What…?" she asked in a small voice.

"It's time for you to leave," the Joker repeated, with finality.

"But-" Kitty Liz began.

"No buts," the Joker interrupted her, "I have a lot of work to do, and you, I believe, are in need of a long nap."

Feeling crushed, Kitty Liz forced herself to get out of the chair. Pouting, she followed the Joker out into the hallway. But he stopped her at the door.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" he exclaimed, pulling a scrap of paper and a pencil from his pocket, "Before you leave, may you be so kind as to give me the cell numbers of my henchmen?"

Kitty Liz couldn't help but smile at the Joker's little outburst, and yet she also couldn't help but feel a little hurt at the apparent abandonment. However, this was no time to examine her feelings. Raking her memory, Kitty Liz began to list off the names and numbers that she couldn't help but memorize all that time ago.

"Coons - cell number 3141, Roomsby - cell number 4183, Popovich - 2182,

Grainger - cell number 4879, Maverick - number 3112, Soo - was roomed with Maverick, and finally, Schiff - number 4321."

The Joker noted each name and accompanying number on his paper, looking excited.

"Great, thanks!" he told Kitty Liz, before holding the door open for her. She stepped outside reluctantly.

"Ta!" the Joker said happily, and shut the door in her face.

* * *

Kitty Liz drove home in a haze, almost forgetting to keep out of sight on the way. When she arrived at her cabin, she didn't know what to do with herself. Her mind was filled with questions she did not know the answers to, and that was the only thing she could think about. Why did the Joker kick her out so suddenly? What did he need his thugs for? And most importantly, when and how will he find her again? After about a half-an-hour of pacing back and forth inside her cabin, she finally told herself that she had to stop. Taking a water bottle out of her refrigerator, she dumped its contents onto her face, and, with a deep breath, forced herself to relax and get back to reality.

There were a few things that she needed to do. First, she cooked herself a lunch. A very big and nutritional lunch. She ate it in less than ten minutes, sitting on her bed. Then she laid down completely and slept for three hours straight, dreaming about nothing. When she woke up, feeling energetic and refreshed, she decided that she needed a few moments to bring herself back to order. She brushed her teeth, combed her hair, and was finally able to change out of the clothes she's been wearing for the past two days. Feeling human again, she relaxed on her bed with a book until it was time to make dinner.

Some time later, Kitty Liz sat on her bed again, eating a steaming-hot bowl of spaghetti. She had a little television unit that she had set up on top of the table, and was waiting for the six o'clock news. She wanted to know if the Joker had freed his goons, or done anything else of importance. But even from the previews, she could tell that they had nothing new on the subject of the Joker. They showed the video again, then started speculating on the Joker's future plans. They had a psychologist on the line, whom they asked to comment on what he thought the Joker's current mentality was. The psychologist, speaking uncomfortably fast, commented that the Joker's threat in the video was very likely a bluff. And when asked what would most likely be the Joker's next move, he replied

"Considering the fact that the Joker's financial situation is probably his greatest concern at the moment, the most likely thing we should be expecting from the psychopath clown is a bank robbery."

Then, the interview ended, and the anchor announced that they had another person on the line.

"Hello, Samantha?" the anchor asked.

"Yes, I'm here," answered none other than Samantha Leigh.

Kitty Liz turned up her volume significantly.

"Samantha, you were there in the courthouse when the Joker escaped, am I correct?" the anchor asked.

"Yes, I work there as a door guard, and I happened to be right outside the courtroom when the attack happened."

"Can you tell us your experiences from that day? What happened?" the anchor continued.

"When I first caught sight of the Joker, he was being led through the corridor by a pair of guards, surrounded by a swarm of reporters. Miss Catherine Francis was there too, and it looked as if she was attempting to speak to him. I let them into the courtroom almost simultaneously. I should have known that by that point, he must've chosen her as his victim."

"And what do you suppose Catherine's business was with the Joker?"

"I don't know, but I doubt it pleased the maniac. In my opinion, it must have been something personal."

"I know this is very unlikely, but you don't suppose she was offering the Joker her services?"

"Yes, Miss Francis is a lawyer, but she is not the kind of person who would fight for the rights of a murderer. She was… is… an exemplary citizen of Gotham."

There was a moment of silence as Samantha sniffed on the other end.

"And what happened next?" the anchor asked calmly.

"Right before the trial started, I shut the doors, and then escorted the reporters into the courtyard. Then I had nothing to do other than wait while court was in process. I could tell they were nearing the end when it happened. There was a commotion inside, and I heard people screaming. I knew that it could only mean one thing. I braced myself, thinking that I would sooner die than let the sociopath escape. But I was wrong, because he had her.…"

Samantha faltered, unable to go on. The anchor waited patiently for her to recover.

"Who did he have?" she asked eventually, in soothing tones.

"Miss Francis!" Samantha cried out, "He had Miss Francis!"

"And what did you do?" the anchor urged.

"Catherine told me to let her go," Samantha sobbed, "That she would be alright. And I believed her, and complied. I failed my duty, and now she is probably dead. And it is entirely my fault.…"

Samantha broke off again, but recovered a moment later.

"I let them go, and that is probably the last I will ever see of Miss Francis," she said bitterly, "That is all. After they left, I delivered first aid to the guards attacked in the courtroom. One of them had his throat slit by the bastard, the other his face. Then the police arrived, and I was taken away for questioning…."

Samantha slipped into a resigned silence, indicating that she had finished her story. The anchor thanked her for her time, and announced a commercial break.

Kitty Liz turned off the TV, feeling uncomfortable. She got off her bed, washed the dishes, then threw on her winter coat and left the cabin. She needed some fresh air and a long walk. She walked along the water's edge, the breeze from the ocean hitting her in the face forcefully as she thought. Was what she was doing worth it? She thought about her family, Samantha, and the rest of the people she knew who cared about her. She couldn't imagine what pain they must be feeling right now. They were suffering, it was true, but it was all for their own good. They were gullible and naïve people. Kitty Liz was a revolutionary, and all she wanted was to enlighten the others. And in that case, it was worth it, all of it, and anything that she was yet to do. Having made up her mind, Kitty Liz turned around and returned to the place that she now called home.


	4. Chapter 4

_Kitty, Meet Shadow_

Kitty Liz woke with a start because her cell phone was ringing. She automatically groped the table, only to realize that there was no cell phone and that what she's experienced was nothing more than a dream. She looked at the clock, and groaned. It was 6:23, around the time she's been waking up for the past two days. And even worse, she realized that her body had absolutely no intention of falling back asleep. Shivering, she climbed out of bed, and immediately wished that she hadn't. It was icy cold inside the cabin. She threw her blanket around her, and shuffled over to the wood stove to start a fire. After that was done, she turned on the radio, and listened to the news while she cooked breakfast. They said absolutely nothing about the Joker, and Kitty Liz was unsure whether she should be feeling grateful or worried.

Once breakfast was ready, she sat down on her bed and turned on the television. She watched the first morning show she could find, but that had absolutely nothing new on the Joker either. Frustrated, Kitty Liz climbed back under the covers and began to await the Joker's next move.

And so the morning crept steadily to lunchtime, but instead of preparing something to eat, Kitty Liz was pacing the cabin, waiting for the afternoon news. She turned the TV on at five to twelve, and watched with anticipation. First they showed some clips from the video. Then they talked about the video some more. And then they said that they had no other news regarding the Joker or anything else related to him. Kitty Liz sighed, feeling like she's been left out in the dark.

She spent that entire day inside, not daring to leave in case something was said in her absence. Her radio and TV were on simultaneously for most of the time, and yet neither one told her anything that she may have wanted to hear. She did hardly anything that day, other than forcing herself to sit down and paint her nails in an attempt to distract herself. That attempt failed gravely as she ended up painting her nails purple. By dinnertime, mostly due to the lack of activity and the stress, Kitty Liz was in a state of mild depression. She sat on her bed, hugging her knees, trying to relax by watching a silly children's cartoon. She must've lost track of time, because somewhere in the background, the radio blurted out something about it being six o'clock. It took a while for the significance of that information to register in her mind, but then she was suddenly flipping through the channels madly. The moment she found the evening news, she could tell that something had finally happened. And judging by the level of urgency with which the anchor spoke, Kitty Liz could tell that it was big.

"… there has been a major breakout from Arkham Asylum. Seven mentally unstable subjects had escaped from the Asylum and off the island, and were sighted in several locations throughout the City. Evidence suggests that the subjects were aided by an outside agent, and the fact that they have all been previously associated with the Joker makes the Joker the primary suspect. The investigation is on-going, and any information regarding the breakout will be highly appreciated. If you have any information regarding the breakout, please call the number you are seeing below. You have the choice to remain anonymous and the information you will give will not be used against you. The names and images of the escaped subjects will be shown shortly."

The picture of the first subject appeared on the screen, and just as Kitty Liz had thought, it was one of the inmates whose location she had given the Joker yesterday. It was Michael Coons, a skinny blond man who used to have a serious addiction to cocaine. He used to teach music at a downtown high school, but had a mental breakdown and ended up on the streets. Kitty Liz knew the stories of each of these men very well.

The man they showed next, Peter Grainger, was short and square, and had obvious trust issues. He used to work as a butcher until someone caught him torturing a cow, and he was fired. Seeking revenge on the entire City, he was attracted by the Joker's ideas and was soon accepted into the Joker's following.

Then came Carlos Maverick, a tall man with a darker complexion. He was a sociopath whose sole pleasure in life was to witness the suffering of others. He had money, and he traveled the world, witnessing and capturing on tape as many monstrosities as he could. He was arrested in Gotham for selling recordings of rape and murder, and was locked away for two years. Barely a week following his release, Maverick joined the Joker.

The fourth man, Henry Popovich, was dusty-haired, and had generally unattractive features. He was Maverick's top buyer, and shared his love for pain. He was very un-talkative and a very un-likeable person.

Then the face of Steven Roomsby appeared on the screen. He was a built man, and he could take on two others at once if he was desperate. He had an obsession with fighting, one could say, as he enjoyed roaming the streets at night, looking for someone he could start a scuffle with. One night he stumbled upon the Joker and several of his goons. They beat him up quite badly, which, to their greatest surprise, caused him to ask if he could join them. He was very strong, but lacked in pretty much every other aspect.

Second-last came Thomas Schiff. He was small and harmless-looking, but he had to be the Joker's most loyal henchman. He received a university degree in electrical engineering before coming down with schizophrenia. He also suffered from occasional outbursts of paranoia, usually followed by excessive alcohol consumption.

Lastly, they showed Ksun Soo. He was a nondescript homeless man whom the Joker found with a noose around his neck. The Joker offered him a purpose in life in exchange for his complete obedience, and Soo accepted in desperation. He was the Joker's first real henchman.

Kitty Liz sat frozen on her bed, shivering slightly. She's been expecting this for quite some time, but now that it finally happened, she felt even worse than before. A question burned at the back of her mind. If the Joker had all of his thugs at his service once more, then why would he need _her_?

The news report was talking about rising gas prices by now, and Kitty Liz turned off the TV with a shake of her head. Maybe the Joker was on his way to see her right now, she thought hopefully, trying to cheer herself up. Her attempt didn't work. With a sigh, she pulled out one of her old law books and started looking up possible penalties for the crimes that she has committed so far. Her mind, however, wandered, and no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on her reading, the feeling of worry never left her. The hours passed, and she found herself feeling even worse than before. Finally, when the clock on her table said 11:00 pm, Kitty Liz put down her book, turned off the light, and proceeded to quietly cry herself to sleep.

* * *

There was a certain energy in the air next morning. For once, it was not sunny outside - it was raining, and the temperature had gone up considerably. Kitty Liz woke up at 9:36, feeling refreshed, and in a much better mood than the night before. She knew that it had to be due to the fact that when she woke up, she immediately knew her plan for the day. And that plan involved leaving the beach and being productive.

Feeling happy, Kitty Liz prepared herself breakfast without even bothering to turn on the radio. Getting ready to leave, she put on the most inconspicuous clothes she could find, including a long winter coat and a hat into which she drew up all of her hair. She put on a pair of sunglasses, applied some uncharacteristic makeup, and grabbed a purse that she had never taken out before. After staring at it undecidedly for a few seconds, she picked up the mask the Joker had given her, and put it inside her purse. Finally, she took a wad of bills from a small box hidden underneath her bed, and slipped the money into her coat pocket.

She left the cabin, feeling incredibly optimistic. After taking a few long breaths of sweet-smelling air, she got onto her scooter and was about to start the engine, when she noticed a person walking some way down the beach. The person was a woman, walking in the opposite direction, and looking like she was simply trying to enjoy a peaceful walk along the beach. Kitty Liz bent over her scooter nervously, wondering if the woman saw her. A few long moments passed, while the woman's silhouette got smaller and smaller in the distance. Finally, Kitty Liz couldn't wait any longer. If she didn't have the confidence to be seen by one person, then how will she be able to expose herself to the crowds of a shopping plaza? There were essential things that she had to buy, groceries being one of them, and she needed to be on her way. So she kicked off her engine, and sped away without a backwards glance.

Once she's arrived at the closest shopping centre, she decided to pay a visit to the pharmacy first. She walked into the store, wiping the wet off her face, and a small chiming noise indicated her entry. She looked around the store nervously, but it was nearly empty. With a sigh of relief, she started browsing the closest displays. A curious-looking pair of earrings caught her eye, in the display closest to the window. Earrings were the last thing on her mind at the moment, but these particular ones stood out from the rest. They were shaped like playing cards, and they were purple. In the bottom left corner of each earring was a tiny black 'J', and in the top right was a black 'S'. Kitty Liz bent over the glass case to read the inscription beside the displayed earrings. It said that they were made from a metal alloy, and that the designer was named Jessica Scott. That explained the choice of lettering, satisfying Kitty Liz's curiosity. She looked at the earrings for a moment, saddened by the fact that they reminded her of a certain someone whom she was trying not to think about at the moment.

"Would you like to look at those, dear?" a voice spoke behind Kitty Liz, making her jump. She was so occupied by the earrings that she had not noticed that the store clerk had walked up behind her. Trying not to panic and not show her face too much, she replied quickly

"Yes, sure."

"Here you go, dear," the store clerk said kindly, unlocking the case and handing her the box with the earrings. Kitty Liz tried to look occupied as she examined them, until finally the clerk wandered away. Just as Kitty Liz was about to leave the earrings and finally get to the real reason she was there, a knock at the window beside her startled her again. She looked up quickly, and nearly dropped her earrings when she recognized the person standing outside. It was the Joker.

He was quite unrecognizable, Kitty Liz had to admit. He wore a long brown trench coat, a scarf that covered the entire lower half of his face, and a hat that hid his green hair in its entirety. The only thing Kitty Liz recognized were the brown eyes, and the fact that it looked as if he forgot to remove the black makeup from around them. Her heart racing, Kitty Liz burst towards the door, but a strict voice behind her made her stop.

"Excuse me!" she store clerk exclaimed in a high-pitched tone. "Are you going to buy those??"

"I - um…" Kitty Liz began indecisively, remembering that the earrings were still in her hand. "Yes."

Kitty Liz followed the clerk to the cash, where she pulled out the wad of money and hurriedly completed the transaction. Then she left the store as calmly as she could, and was greeted cheerfully by the Joker.

"Hello!" he exclaimed.

"What are you doing here?!" Kitty Liz hissed in response.

"Looking for you. What are _you_ doing here??"

"I _was_ planning to buy some hair dye until _you_ showed up. How did you find me??"

"Well, I was on the way to Claystone Beach when I saw a black scooter parked outside this place. So I thought, hmmm, can it be…?"

"Alright, alright. But how did you get here?"

"I biked."

Kitty Liz giggled, and the Joker sighed in annoyance.

"I think you've missed some of your face paint," Kitty Liz pointed out.

"Oh, I don't think so."

"Well, if it's not paint, then you must be lacking a good night's sleep."

"Sleep is for when you're dead."

"So… you were looking for me?" Kitty Liz asked carefully.

"Yes. I thought you would like to know that your suit is ready."

"Oh!" Kitty Liz exclaimed happily. "Thanks!"

The Joker was looking at the tiny shopping bag in her hand.

"You bought hair dye?" he asked.

"Actually, I didn't quite get to that, but I did buy these earrings," Kitty Liz replied, taking the box out of the bag and handing it to the Joker. He opened it and took one of the earrings out.

"Hey, these are hollow inside, aren't they?" he asked, tapping the card-shaped part of the earring with his fingernail.

"I don't know," Kitty Liz replied, confused.

"I wonder if Schiff will be able to play around with them," the Joker said thoughtfully, handing the earring and the box back to Kitty Liz.

"Schiff? As in Thomas Schiff?"

"Yes, haven't you heard? I busted all my men out of Arkham yesterday."

"Oh, I've heard alright."

"Excellent! So what do you say to heading over to my place so you can meet all those wonderful men whom you so helpfully helped to lock away?"

"But… hair dye…."

"Don't worry, I've got about twenty different kinds back at home. And you know what? I'll even sell one to you for free."

Unable to resist the enthusiasm in the Joker's voice, Kitty Liz nodded in agreement.

The trip to the Joker's house was a lot more comfortable this time. Kitty Liz had her scooter all to herself, and they didn't need to stress about keeping out of sight as much. They rode side-by-side as close to the edge of the road as possible, the Joker keeping good speed on his bicycle. About a half-hour later, they reached the old garage on the edge of the river. They entered the building, and Kitty Liz suddenly started feeling apprehensive. What will the Joker's goons think of her when she was the one who helped imprison them? She approached the stairs nervously, but then realized that the Joker had no intention of going up to the second floor. He had stopped at the door to the downstairs apartment. After knocking on it a couple of times and receiving no response, the Joker opened the door himself, and they entered in silence. No-one was there.

"Damned bastards," the Joker growled under his breath. "Left when I precisely told them not to…"

He continued muttering to himself, while Kitty Liz looked around her new surroundings. This apartment was very much like the one upstairs. It had a washroom and a kitchen, but the wall separating the living room from the bedroom wasn't there, forming one giant central room. It was very dirty. Not messy like the Joker's apartment, but literally covered in a layer of brownish-greyish dirt. In the middle of the central room stood a very long table with rows of chairs, and lying along the walls of the room were sleeping bags, blankets, and similar items.

"What is this place?" Kitty Liz asked.

"Conference room, meeting place, temporary residence - whatever it needs to be," came the Joker's reply. "The boys were supposed to be here when we arrived, but they obviously decided that they had better things to do, those untrustworthy dogs. I guess that in the meantime, we can take a trip upstairs so you could try on that suit of yours, what do you think?"

"Yes, please."

"So you wanted to dye your hair?" the Joker asked as they left the apartment.

"Yes, to change my appearance as much as I could," Kitty Liz replied at the foot of the stairs.

"Did you think of cutting it?"

"Yes, but what if I'm recognized at the hair salon?"

"Well, _I_ can cut it for you," the Joker said, pushing the upstairs door open.

Kitty Liz halted, imagining the Joker advancing on her with a pair of scissors.

"Uhh, I don't think that will be such a good idea," she replied hastily. "I mean, do you even know _how_ to cut hair?"

"How hard can it be?" the Joker asked, an unsettling smile on his lips.

"Alright, fine. But I want to have a mirror in front of me so I can see what the hell you're doing," Kitty Liz replied, looking nervous.

"Dye your hair afterwards and get it all over with," the Joker said as they took off their coats. He led her into the washroom, and disappeared back into the living room.

The washroom was in a terrible state. The paint on the walls was peeling, and the tap in the sink leaked. Everything was splattered with red, white, black, and green. As Kitty Liz awaited the Joker's return, she took a comb out of her purse, ran water over it, and combed her hair out thoroughly.

The Joker suddenly appeared in the doorway, carrying a stool and snapping a pair of scissors. He set the stool on the floor in front of the mirror, and pushed Kitty Liz down onto it.

"Ready?" he asked.

Kitty Liz was just about to say no, but it was too late. She heard the scissors snip behind her head, and watched in horror as a five-inch-long strand of hair fell onto the floor.

"Wait!" she cried out. "Are you sure that you know what you're doing??"

"Of course not," the Joker said, twirling the scissors around his finger absent-mindedly. "And that's what makes it so much fun." And he happily continued cutting her hair.

By the end of it, Kitty Liz sat rigidly on the stool, her eyes closed in terror. She no longer wanted to watch, and was horrified at the thought of seeing the result. The Joker was ceasing his snipping now, and then, in total silence, he stopped altogether. Kitty Liz waited, but the Joker did not say anything and neither did he resume cutting. Carefully, Kitty Liz pried one of her eyes open, and then the other one, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The Joker made an incoherent sound behind her.

"Yeah, okay, I screwed up," he finally admitted. "This was a bad idea."

Kitty Liz's so-far blank expression was changing steadily as a smile lit up her face.

"No, it's okay," she said. "It's great, actually. I like it!"

She ran her fingers through the mess of hair that was on top of her head. It was so short now that it just reached her neck, and it stuck out at odd angles. Kitty Liz shook her hair out enthusiastically, and grinned at the Joker.

"So you like it?" the Joker asked, surprised.

Kitty Liz nodded, still grinning.

"Okay then," the Joker said. "And here I thought you'd be ready to strangle me."

Kitty Liz laughed in an uncharacteristically maniacal manner. The Joker looked at her warily, then opened a cupboard beside his head and pulled out a big plastic bag filled with cardboard packages.

"This is all the hair dye I have," he said. He then set the bag of packages down in front of her, and she proceeded to pull one of them out. It said 'All-natural Hair Dye: PINK.' Kitty Liz giggled and stuffed the package back into the bag.

"Pick any color you want," the Joker told her.

"I think I'll go with black," Kitty Liz said. The Joker dug to the very bottom of the bag and pulled out a box marked 'All-natural Hair Dye: BLACK.' "Here you go," he said, handing the box to her, and putting the bag of dyes back into its cupboard. He then opened a different cupboard and pulled out an old, folded-up bathrobe. "Enjoy," he said, and tossed the bathrobe onto her lap.

"Thanks," Kitty Liz said cheerfully, and the Joker left the washroom with the scissors and stool.

Kitty Liz unfolded the bathrobe, and saw that its entire front was stained green. This was the bathrobe the Joker wore every time he dyed his hair. Checking that he wasn't around, Kitty Liz drew the bathrobe into a bundle, and buried her face in it. It smelled good. She didn't dare linger too long, remembering what happened the last time that she did. After taking a few long breaths, she withdrew from the bathrobe, and a second later a movement in the mirror made her jump. She turned around hastily to see the Joker standing in the doorway, holding a dustpan and a broom.

"Didn't mean to scare ya," he said with a laugh.

"How long have you been standing there?" Kitty Liz asked breathlessly.

"I don't know, a second," the Joker replied, giving Kitty Liz a weird look. "Why?"

"Never mind," Kitty Liz replied, putting on the bathrobe and beginning to prepare the dye.

Still giving Kitty Liz a look of distrust, the Joker swept up the hair from the floor, and left. With a sigh of relief, Kitty Liz applied the dye, and began to wait for it to take its effect. She left the washroom and found the Joker at the kitchen table, munching on a sandwich. Seeing her, he motioned to the plate across from him, atop of which sat another sandwich.

"One of the things I did over the past two days was restock the refrigerator," the Joker explained as Kitty Liz sat down to join him.

"And did you forget to sleep in the process?" Kitty Liz asked, taking a bite out of her sandwich.

"I was very busy," the Joker told her. "Which also led to me barely paying any attention to the media. So what have they been saying?"

"Ah, nothing much," Kitty Liz replied. "But they did suggest that you should rob a bank."

"Is that so? A very smart suggestion. I mean, the materials that made up your suit didn't come cheap."

"Didn't you also have to pay the person who made the suit?"

"Don't worry - he did it for free."

Kitty Liz looked at the Joker shrewdly for a few seconds before it hit her. The scraps of material scattered all over the place, the sowing tools - it all fell into place now.

"You," she said incredulously, "you made it."

"Let me show you something," the Joker said, getting up. Kitty Liz got up too, and he led her into the living room. He approached the dresser with the TV on it, opened one of the cupboards, and slid the shelf out until it formed a table. On it stood an old sowing machine and a box of needles and threads.

"I like to make my suits custom," the Joker explained, pushing the shelf back in and closing the cupboard. He left the dresser, sat down on the sofa, and patted the sofa's arm for Kitty Liz to join him. Kitty Liz looked longingly at the electric chair, but decided that she better do what she is told.

"So you made my suit all by yourself?" Kitty Liz asked incredulously, perching on the sofa's arm.

"Well, Schiff helped with some technological things," the Joker replied with a quick smile.

Kitty Liz remained silent for a few minutes, but then a question formed itself in her mind.

"How did you free them? Your men?"

A big grin spread over the Joker's face at the question.

"I just walked in," he replied. Kitty Liz looked dumbfounded.

"I walked in and the guards did the rest," the Joker explained. "They captured me, and just as I suspected, they decided to lock me up in one of the maximum security cells until the arrival of the police. So after I was granted access to the maximum security wing of the asylum, I got rid of the guards who were with me, took their keys, and proceeded to visit the cells that you've mentioned. And they were all there, all seven of them. Then we used one of the emergency exits to get out and were well on our way long before the police arrived. Did you know that you can climb on the underside of the bridges? The police certainly had no idea."

Kitty Liz was staring at the Joker, her mouth open. The Joker continued grinning at her. Suddenly, Kitty Liz was looking at him narrow-eyed.

"If you were there, in the asylum, how come you didn't free inmate number 3110?"

"I had his door open and was granting him freedom," the Joker said, making Kitty Liz stare again. "But you see, there appears to be a problem…."

"Which is?"

"He doesn't want to get rescued."

"Who in their right mind -" Kitty Liz began, but was interrupted by the Joker.

"You are forgetting that he's an inmate of an asylum. He wouldn't be in his right mind, now, would he?"

"I suppose not… but still, how strange…. Did you at least find out who he was?"

"Young fella, wears glasses," the Joker replied with a shrug.

"Oh," Kitty Liz said, and then was silent.

The minutes went by and eventually the period of waiting lapsed. Kitty Liz was just about to tell the Joker that it was time for her to go and wash out the dye when she realized that he was asleep. Kitty Liz got off the sofa and left the room quietly.

She walked into the washroom and went to wash the dye out of her hair over the bathtub. After five minutes of rinsing, Kitty Liz found herself wondering if the Joker would mind her taking a shower. She slipped out of the washroom to check that he was still asleep, then took off her clothes and climbed into the bathtub, drawing the yellow shower curtain. It felt really good, after all these days, to relax under the hot water. Without even noticing, Kitty Liz was soon daydreaming about a nice summer trip to the beach, but then the sound of the door opening brought her back to reality. She stood rigid, grasping the shower head, until she heard the door close again. She breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly, the Joker didn't mind her showering.

Ten minutes later, Kitty Liz stood drying herself in front of the fogged-up mirror. She was pleasantly surprised to find a hair dryer lying beside her purse, and was about to make good use of it, when she suddenly realized that her clothes were gone. And then she saw it. Hanging on a hook beside the door was the very suit that she has been dying to wear. Unable to stop herself from crying out in excitement, she bounded over to the door and proceeded to put it on.

First, she slipped on the pants. They already had the skirt and the belt sown onto them, and thin leather straps dangled about her ankles. The belt was white, unlike the pants and skirt, and was covered by metal studs at equal intervals. There were also about ten different holders and sheaths for guns and knives. The pants were extremely flexible, except for around her thighs, where they felt somewhat stiffer. She decided to ask the Joker about that later.

Next, Kitty Liz put on the shirt. Like her pants, it felt nice and smooth against her body, and also like her pants, it had leather straps descending from the bottom as well as the ends of her sleeves. She clipped the straps at the bottom of her shirt to the studs on her belt, and evaluated the result in the mirror. So far so good.

Then, Kitty Liz found the shoes. They were soft and flexible, just as she wanted, and were also lined with tiny studs at the top. She slipped them onto her feet, and clipped the straps at the bottom of her pants to the studs. She walked up and down the washroom, and decided that the shoes fit very well.

Lastly came the gloves. They only went up to half the length of her fingers, as was planned, but Kitty Liz also noticed that the Joker had sown white ribbon onto them, which formed a bow at the top. Higher than the bows were tiny studs once more, and they clipped onto the straps from her sleeves. She pulled the gloves onto her hands, and was about to go examine herself in the mirror again when she noticed something else hanging on the hook. She picked it up, and realised with a surprise that it was a silky-smooth white tie. Perplexed, she opened the door to ask the Joker why it was here, and nearly started because he was standing right outside the door.

"What's this?" Kitty Liz asked, holding up the tie.

"Remember when you asked how I was planning to communicate with you?"

"Yes, but -"

"You have the equivalent of a cell phone built into it. Schiff constructed the device last night. Feel here," the Joker said, taking the tie out of her hands, and running a finger over its underside. Kitty Liz did the same.

"Do you feel the buttons? Those are your controls. If you feel an incoming call -"

"Feel…?"

"Yes, if I will try to contact you, you will feel a slight vibration around your neck. To answer, press the topmost button. If you are not alone, just pretend to fix your tie."

"What about the bottom button?"

"End call."

Kitty Liz ran her fingers down to the very bottom of the tie and found a third button, almost at the very tip.

"What's that one for?" she asked.

"Oh, that's if you want to reach someone other than myself. To reach me, simply press the topmost button. But to call someone else, press the bottommost one."

"And what happens?"

"See for yourself."

Kitty Liz pressed the button, and stared as a number pad suddenly glowed blue through the white material of the underside of her tie. A few seconds later, however, it faded back to white.

"Dial any phone number you like," the Joker said. "But it's best not be done in public unless you want people coming up to you and asking why you have a glowing tie."

"And how do I talk? Do I talk _into_ the tie??"

"No, silly, you just talk normally as if you're talking to somebody beside you. Don't worry, you'll be heard."

"And how will _I_ hear?"

"That's the catch. I was actually trying to think of something practical and inconspicuous when you showed me your earrings. And then I realized that Schiff would probably be able to equip them with earphones or something. We'll see."

"So I'm guessing that your tie is equipped with a communication device, too?"

The Joker shook his head, chuckling, and took a sleek black cell phone out of his pocket. Kitty Liz gaped at him.

"So _you're_ allowed to have a cell phone and _I'm_ not??" she demanded indignantly.

"Yes, because no-one knows I have it."

"Humph," said Kitty Liz and stormed off back into the washroom.

"Well, if you don't like your tie, we can always trade!" the Joker called from the doorway.

"No!" Kitty Liz exclaimed, and immediately realized her mistake. The Joker looked at her smugly.

"Alright, whatever," Kitty Liz said, and started putting on her tie in front of the mirror. Then she plugged in the hairdryer, took a brush out of her purse, and began drying out her hair. The Joker watched her, standing by the door. Once she was done, she turned to him and asked him how she looked.

"Let's decide on that once we're actually finished," the Joker replied, then took a big box of makeup from a shelf beside the sink. He opened it and removed a tube of black paint.

"Close your eyes," he told her.

Kitty Liz closed her eyes, and felt the Joker smear the face paint over her eyelids and around her eyes.

"Open your eyes and look up," the Joker told her next.

Kitty Liz obeyed once again, and he smeared paint underneath her eyes too.

"There," he said.

"What was the point of that?" Kitty Liz asked quizzically.

"It optimizes the effect of your mask," the Joker replied, suddenly reminding Kitty Liz that it was still in her purse. She took the mask out, and put it on. She looked at herself in the mirror. The Joker was right, it _did_ look much better when her skin was no longer showing underneath.

"Done?" the Joker asked her.

"Almost," Kitty Liz replied, then pulled out a handful of bobby pins from the bottom of her purse, and concealed them inside her hair. She also got the earrings out, and put those on too. Suddenly, something inside the Joker's makeup box caught her eye. It was a stick of black lipstick. She took it and applied it as well. Finally, she stood quite still in front of the mirror, taking in her new self.

"So, how do I look?" she asked again.

"You look like an angel that has come out of hell," the Joker replied, unintentionally sending a shiver down Kitty Liz's spine.

"What does the JS on your earrings stand for?" he asked out of nowhere.

For a second, Kitty Liz considered Jessica Scott, but then a different idea came to her.

"It stands for Joker... Joker and… Shadow."

"Shadow…." the Joker repeated thoughtfully. "It suits you. I like it."

"Thanks," Kitty Liz replied. "I'm glad we agree on that."

"Alright then, _Shadow_," the Joker said, "I guess it's time for me to give you your weapons."

"Good idea," Kitty Liz replied, a smile curving her lips

They left the bathroom and were soon standing in the hallway, before the ironing board, which was draped by the sheet which previously covered the bicycle. Kitty Liz watched excitedly as the Joker drew the sheet aside, displaying underneath it a collection of knives laid out in a row. Kitty Liz reached for one of the knives, but the Joker suddenly covered the collection again.

"Before we get to those," he said. "I'd like to give you something else that I'm sure you'll enjoy." He reached into his pocket and retrieved two very curious-looking identical blades. They were very small and thin, had jagged edges, and each had a silver knob for a handle.

"Look at how these work," the Joker said, holding the blades above Kitty Liz's head. "You slip the blades into your hair, concealing them, so only the handles show. And then they look like nothing but a hair accessory. However, when the time comes, you can whip them out and use them as a weapon." He slipped the blades into Kitty Liz's hair, crossing them, then took a step back to evaluate.

"No-one will even know," he said.

"This is ingenious," Kitty Liz said, smiling and running her fingers over her hair carefully.

"Now," the Joker said, "let me show you the rest."

This time, he took the sheet off the ironing board completely, and threw it onto the floor.

"Now, I remember you asking for a big gun," the Joker said. "But I figured that a bazooka would be _too_ big, and so would a rifle. So instead, I got you the biggest pistol I own. Here you go."

He handed her a gun that looked almost too big to be a pistol. The barrel itself was almost as long as her forearm, and wider than her wrist.

"What is this? A miniature cannon?"

"Don't worry - it's just a big gun that fires big bullets. Will you manage?"

"Yes, it's great," Kitty Liz said, and put the gun into the holder on her right hip.

"Okay, then you have the knives. I chose six that were quite different."

Kitty Liz looked at the knives, then picked them up one by one to examine them. There was a very small, plain knife, which Kitty Liz put into her leftmost sheath. Then there was a knife with a very long blade. Then came two small, different knives with jagged edges, and another one with a long blade. Finally, came a monstrous knife with a long, wide blade, which Kitty Liz placed into her rightmost sheath.

"Maybe I will be able to get Schiff to engrave that gun and those knives with the word 'Shadow' for ya, what do you think?" the Joker asked.

"I'd like that," Kitty Liz replied.

"Great," the Joker said. He was grinning at her mysteriously.

"What?" she asked.

"What if I told you that you had four more blades on you at the moment?"

"I'd ask you what you were talking about."

"And I'd tell you to kick the wall with the side of your shoe."

"Hunh??"

"Just do it."

Giving the Joker a sideways look, Kitty Liz approached the wall to her right, kicked it, and jumped. She jumped, because to her greatest surprise, a small blade popped out of the toe of her shoe.

"Whoa," she said.

The Joker was nearly bouncing with enthusiasm.

"Now kick something with the other side of your shoe," he told her excitedly.

Feeling a little wary, she kicked the wall with the inner side of her foot. Immediately, she felt a mechanical whirring underneath her heel, and then a blade popped out the back.

"Now try the other shoe," the Joker said, jumping a little.

Kitty Liz kicked the wall with first one side of her left shoe, and then the other. And both times a blade popped out, first from her toe, and then from her heel. Kitty Liz was looking incredulous.

"This was my most ingenious idea," the Joker told her, kicking the floor and watching as a blade came out of his own shoe, "It's like kicking and stabbing at the same time!"

"Now how do I make them go back in?"

"Just do what you did to make them come out."

Kitty Liz kicked the wall with the outer sides of her shoes again, and the blades in front disappeared. Then she kicked her heels together, and the blades in the back also retracted into her soles.

"Any other surprises?" Kitty Liz asked hopefully.

"Just one more," came the Joker's reply. "After some speculation, I decided that you might find this one quite useful when climbing things."

He picked up a box from the floor, and set it on top of the ironing board. He opened the lid, and inside was what looked like another gun. But there was something different about this one.

"It's a grapnel gun," the Joker said. "As well as a few dozen cartridges. You see the holder on your left hip? There's a tiny metal loop beside it on your belt. Let me show you how this works."

The Joker held up one of the grapnel cartridges, then slammed it into the barrel. He pressed on the handle and a small length of rope came out of the handle's end. The rope had a clip on it.

"Extendable and retractable," the Joker told Kitty Liz, pulling on the rope a couple of times, and watching it retract back into the handle. Then he clipped the rope to the loop on her belt, placed the gun into the holder on her hip, then slipped two spare cartridges into her two remaining holders.

"When you need to get up somewhere, aim the gun and press the trigger to fire the hooks. Once you are attached, push on the clicker here and the gun will begin to pull you up. Remember, the more you push, the faster you'll go. Once you are up, unclip the rope from your belt, open the barrel, and replace the cartridge. If you need to use the harness to get down from somewhere, then you'll have to push the clicker down. Now, I _did_ try my best to incorporate a harness into your pants-"

"_OH!_" Kitty Liz exclaimed. "So _that's _why my pants feel stiff around my bum."

"So you know about that already. Well, the grapnel gun was my final surprise, so I guess that's it for now."

"You know, I'm surprised you did all this… in two days. I never expected something like this… from someone like you."

"Someone like me? What can I say, I just think that you 'have potential'. Not to mention that I have _a lot _of free time on my hands. _And _I am finding myself in a particularly good mood lately."

"Well, thank you."

"There is no need for courtesy in my world, Shadow. Instead, what do you say we go and test all of your new things out outside?"

"Smart idea, Mr. J. As we both know that I'm very likely to break my neck on my first mission."

* * *

The next half-hour was spent in the abandoned streets around the Joker's house, shooting at the windows of empty houses, attacking sand bags, and climbing up and down walls. Kitty Liz surprised the Joker with her gun-handling skills, and he was soon demanding where a lawyer learns how to use a gun in the first place.

"My family has _a lot _of police officers as friends," Kitty Liz replied, "and they all _love_ to show off their stuff. I couldn't help but learn a few things here and there when I was a girl."

"Is it weird that I find that slightly unsettling?" the Joker asked with a laugh, while Kitty Liz aimed at a fourth-storey window. "Now tell me," he continued, "how is it that your family is so rich when your parents are merely crime scene investigators?"

"Family inheritance," Kitty Liz replied. She fired and the glass exploded into a million pieces. "My grandmother died," she added before the Joker could ask. "And then we moved into her mansion."

"Ah, a fortune like that -" the Joker began, but never finished his sentence. Coming from the direction of the river was the sound of gunfire.


	5. Chapter 5

_Trouble Comes This Way_

An adrenaline rush, Kitty Liz realized, is like having a pair of booster rockets tied to the back of your feet. All the background noise disappears, and you find yourself listening only to the thump of your heart and the sound of your own footfalls. It's a good atmosphere for serious thinking, even though you might not have a lot of time on your hands to do so. Kitty Liz hadn't really thought when she and the Joker broke into a sprint back to the Joker's garage, towards the gunfire. But they both knew that it was too late to turn around now.

The garage suddenly came into view, but yet another thundering gunshot sent Kitty Liz and the Joker half tripping, half diving behind the nearest wall. The buildings around them reverberated with the sound, the echoes colliding and overlapping, making the source of the original gunshot impossible to trace.

"Give me your gun!" the Joker commanded, and Kitty Liz passed her pistol over hurriedly. The Joker grabbed it with both hands, and held it at the ready. Then he leaned away from her, and carefully looked around the side of the wall.

"See anything?" Kitty Liz asked breathlessly.

"No. Nothing," the Joker spat, frustrated.

They sat with their backs to the wall, breathing heavily for a few minutes, but the gunfire did not resume. After exchanging a quick glance with each other, Kitty Liz and the Joker finally braved getting up and having a look. The Joker looked around the side of the wall again, then glanced back at Kitty Liz, his expression blank. Suddenly, he slipped from their hiding place, and sank behind a dumpster a few metres down. Next, Kitty Liz too took a look around the wall. She caught a glimpse of the Joker's garage between the buildings in front, and, not seeing anything suspicious, she lunged to join the Joker behind the dumpster. They did not talk, but shared a glance again before continuing on their way. After hiding behind a few more walls down, they finally came to a stop behind a row of sand-filled barrels. The only thing that separated them from the garage now was an open lot.

Even before Kitty Liz and the Joker saw anything, they heard voices. Gruff, loud voices, about five of them. They weren't close enough to be heard clearly, but it was obvious that they were laughing about something. The Joker seemed to be listening intently for a few moments, and then he was suddenly looking annoyed. Rolling his eyes, he handed Kitty Liz back her pistol, sighed loudly, and stood up. The voices ceased immediately. Kitty Liz put her gun back into its holder, then looked up at the Joker questioningly. He, however, was glaring at the opposite corner of the lot, his arms folded over his chest in disapproval.

"Hi… boss!" one of the voices called out across the lot nervously.

"Dogs! Bastards!" the Joker erupted, marching around the barrels and onto the lot. He seemed to have forgotten about Kitty Liz, who was looking after him with an expression of total confusion on her face. Realizing that he was probably expecting her to follow, she got up and ran to catch up with him. She burst onto the lot and finally got a clear view of the situation. There was the Joker, looking furious, striding away from her in a very intimidating manner. He was headed towards a group of men huddled around a car in the far corner of the lot. Kitty Liz hurried after him until she was at his side, and was about to ask him who those men were, when she realized the answer to that question herself. Close enough to see their faces now, Kitty Liz came to a complete stop in her tracks. They were the Joker's henchmen, the ones he'd freed from Arkham Asylum yesterday. There was Coons, Maverick, Roomsby, Grainger, and Soo. Schiff and Popovich, however, appeared to be missing in action.

"What the HELL is going on here?" the Joker barked, having finally reached the men crowding the car. Kitty Liz crept after the Joker hesitantly, and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible when she came to a stop behind him. Luckily for her, the Joker's goons appeared to be too occupied by concealing something behind them to pay any attention to her. The Joker's fury seemed to increase twofold as he also caught on to what they were doing. He walked towards them, pushing them roughly out of the way, then stopped and let out an angry growl. Kitty Liz joined him, concerned, and found herself looking at the body of an aged man. He was propped against the side of the car, a single bullet hole smack in the middle of his forehead. The Joker spun around, and launched himself at his thugs.

"Whose car is that?" he boomed, pointing at the ancient brown Chevrolet. His men said nothing, shying away from him and avoiding his threatening gaze. The car however, decided to speak for itself.

"A31, are you there?" a crackling voice was heard from inside. The Joker opened the driver's door, and his eyes immediately fell on the police radio built into the dashboard.

"Stevens, Maher, do you read me?" the radio said again.

The Joker slammed the car door shut, his face now distorted with fury.

"You brought an undercover cop to the hideout?" he asked, his voice so hoarse it was barely audible.

"They followed Roomsby, actually," Michael Coons remarked casually.

Without a second thought, the Joker grabbed Kitty Liz's gun from its holder, and fired it without even really looking where. He hit his target however, and Steven Roomsby collapsed to the ground, a bloody circle spreading in the middle of his chest. Carlos Maverick let out a maniacal, high-pitched giggle.

"Anybody else have anything to say?" the Joker challenged, pointing Kitty Liz's gun at each of them in turn. Suddenly, his face contorted with even more fury, and he turned to point the pistol at Michael Coons.

"Ugh, did you say THEY followed Roomsby here? THERE WAS MORE THAN ONE OF THESE IDIOTS!?"

Coons opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment the garage door flew open violently. Everyone turned as Henry Popovich came hurtling through the doorway, nearly tripping as he did so, a crazy grin on his face. He appeared to be completely unbothered by the Joker's presence, and was trying very hard to get the rest of the men to follow him inside.

"Come!" he urged, "Come see what Schiff's done!"

"Damn it, SCHIFF," the Joker said under his breath, and immediately followed Popovich into the garage. Unsure of what to do once again, Kitty Liz decided that it was best to be following. The Joker's thugs also burst into pursuit, laughing excitedly as they did so.

Popovich led the group up the stairs and into the Joker's apartment. As soon as she was inside, Kitty Liz found herself surrounded by a cloud of thick black smoke which smelled sickeningly of burnt leather. She waved the smoke away from her face as she followed Popovich and the Joker to the centre of the room, from where the smoke appeared to be emanating. The entire procession finally came to a stop around the electric chair, and as the smoke slowly drifted away through the open door, its source finally became visible.

There was a woman in the electric chair, and she was dead. Her arms and legs were fastened to the chair, and the electric cap was strapped to her head. The woman's entire body was burnt, and her police uniform was still smouldering. This obviously had to be the second cop that Coons was referring to.

Down beside the electric chair knelt Thomas Schiff. He was fumbling with the wiring around one of the chair's legs, and appeared to be too absorbed by what he was doing to notice anything or anyone else. He looked timid-enough, but on his face was an insane smile that told of the complete opposite. He was completely unaware of the others' presence until Maverick took a small portable camera out of his pocket and began to film. Alerted by the faint beeping noise, Schiff looked up and nearly toppled over in shock. His surprised eyes fell on Kitty Liz, and then on the Joker, and his smile immediately vanished. Getting up awkwardly, he went to stand behind Popovich and Maverick.

"Schiff fixed the chair," Ksun Soo stated the obvious quietly.

"WHEN?" the Joker demanded, furious again.

"Yes-sterday, s-sir," Schiff replied in a small voice.

Kitty Liz gave the Joker a frightened look, suddenly reminded of how she nearly sat in the chair just earlier today. The Joker looked at her uncomfortably, then turned back to glare at Schiff.

"Idiot," he accused, and Schiff looked down at the floor guiltily.

There was a moment of painful silence.

"Uh, who is SHE?" Coons broke the silence casually, nodding at Kitty Liz. Finally, it seemed, the Joker's henchmen took the time to notice her. All the eyes in the room gradually came to rest on her, while she looked at the Joker apprehensively. To her surprise, however, the Joker was looking pleased.

"Your makeover is quite a success then, Shadow," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips, "I was more than certain they'd recognize you."

"She is-s Cath-therine Elizabeth Franci-cis," Schiff stuttered from the back, "I remem-ber her, s-sir."

"What is SHE doing here?" Coons demanded, giving Kitty Liz an unfriendly look.

"She is here, COONS," the Joker growled in response, "because she is my accomplice. She did save me the trouble of going to jail, as you all know."

The Joker's second statement appeared to not have registered in Coons' mind.

"Her? Your ACCOMPLICE?" he exclaimed, resulting in burst of laughter from the rest of the thugs. Except Schiff. Schiff looked scared.

"Yes, HER," the Joker thundered, and the laughter stopped immediately, "And if any of you are telling me that there is a some kind of problem, then I suggest that you leave, and that you do it NOW."

The Joker stared at his goons for a few seconds, but after no-one moved or said anything, he continued.

"She is to be referred to as Shadow and Shadow only. You will address her as ma'am, and carry out any and all orders given by her. You are to respect her as you respect me. And if not, then she has my full permission to blow your worthless little heads off. Otherwise, I will do so myself." The Joker then turned to Kitty Liz, and began pointing out his thugs to her. "Shadow, meet Schiff, Soo, Maverick, Grainger, Popovich, blah, blah, blah - you know the rest. Oh, and the guy that I killed - that was Roomsby. Now, I have a funny feeling that we will be receiving a little visit from the pigs in a short while, so we all better scram. Coons, Schiff - get Roomsby inside. Soo, get the spare license plates and replace the ones on the Chevy. The rest of you, grab anything worthwhile and get it in the car. NOW!"

Coons followed Schiff out of the apartment, fuming. Soo went to forage inside the Joker's closet. The rest of the men started picking up boxes of knives and guns from the hallway, as well as the makeup box and hair dye bag from the washroom.

"Ey, get my bike and the black scooter," the Joker yelled after them as they walked out of the apartment.

"What's going on?" Kitty Liz asked the Joker nervously.

"We're relocating," the Joker replied.

"I can see that. But where're you going?"

"Your place is still fine, correct?"

"Yes of course."

"Then there ya go."

Coons and Schiff returned in a short while, carrying the body of Steven Roomsby. The Joker motioned them to lay him down on the sofa beside the electric chair.

"There," Coons said, giving the Joker a pointed look.

"Great. Now go get the body of the cop," the Joker told him.

Coons glared at the Joker, who stared back, vividly amused. Finally, Coons turned around and shuffled away, and him and Schiff left the apartment. The Joker then turned to Kitty Liz.

"Grab anything you like, this is your only chance."

Kitty Liz nodded, and bolted into the bathroom to get her purse and the box from her earrings. When she returned to the living room, the Joker stood waiting for her with a big plastic bag in his hands.

"Your clothes," the Joker said, handing her the bag, "And here's your gun back."

"Thanks," Kitty Liz replied, taking the bag and the pistol.

Coons and Schiff then came through the door carrying the policeman, and laid him down on the sofa beside Roomsby. The Joker, meanwhile, disappeared into the bedroom, and returned a minute later with a large duffel bag over his shoulder.

"Where're the keys from that car?" the Joker asked, turning to Coons and Schiff. They stared at him blankly for a few seconds, but then Schiff ran up to the dead cop on the sofa, patted the cop's pant pockets, and retrieved a set of car keys. The Joker grabbed the keys out of Schiff's hands, and then threw a final look around the room.

"Let's go," he said, and they all hastily left the apartment.

Outside, Soo had finished changing the license plates, and the car was packed to the top with bags and boxes. The Joker's bike was folded up in the back seat, and Kitty Liz's scooter was in the trunk. The Joker threw the duffel bag on top of the scooter, and slammed the trunk shut.

"What's in the duffel bag?" Kitty Liz asked the Joker as she stuffed her own bag into the whatever little space was available in the back seat.

"Money," the Joker replied, "Or at least what's left of it."

He turned around to face his henchmen, and waited for their attention.

"Shadow and I are taking the cop car to the new hideout," he announced once everyone was quiet, "As for the rest of you, grab anything you might find useful, and leave as soon as you can. Now, I need someone to stay behind and torch the place. I think Coons should do that." He turned to Michael Coons, who was glaring at him again. "If someone on the radio says something about visiting our place," the Joker told him, "I'll give you a ringadeling, and you set the garage on fire, alright?"

"Yes… boss," Michael Coons replied glumly.

"Good. Now get out of my sight, all of you," the Joker said, waving his goons away.

The men turned back to the garage.

"All except Thomas Schiff."

Schiff froze in his tracks, and turned around, horror-struck. The Joker motioned him back.

"I almost forgot, Schiff, that I have something very important for you to do. Shadow would like her knives and gun engraved with her alias, and then there are also these earrings…."

The Joker took an empty sack from the car, and stuck it into Schiff's trembling hands.

"Shadow," he said pointedly. Kitty Liz proceeded to drop her gun and knives into the sack in Schiff's hands. The Joker looked at her grapnel gun thoughtfully, so Kitty Liz unhooked that as well and also dropped it into the sack. Then she took off her earrings, put them back inside their box, and handed the box over to Schiff, who was looking at her with a puzzled expression on his face. She gave him an encouraging smile, but that only seemed to scare him.

"Shadow wants those earrings to be equipped with earphones for her tie, TONIGHT," the Joker snapped, making Schiff jump.

"I do??" Kitty Liz asked, bewildered.

"Yes," the Joker replied.

"Doesn't he also need my tie to do it?"

"I suppose he does, then."

Kitty Liz took off her tie, and also threw it into Schiff's hands, feeling terribly awkward.

"Let's be on our way then, ta!" the Joker said, waving Schiff away.

"How in the world will he have my earrings done by tonight??" Kitty Liz asked the Joker as she went to get into the passenger seat.

"Shouldn't you be driving? Considering the fact that you know where you live and I don't?" the Joker asked in response, passing Kitty Liz the keys.

"Good point, Mr. J," Kitty Liz replied, taking the car keys and walking over to get into the driver's seat instead, "But once again, how will Schiff get my earphones done by tonight?"

"Don't worry about it. All his equipment is in the downstairs apartment, and if he's smart enough, he'll be gone with it before the fuzz arrives."

"Oh," replied Kitty Liz, watching the Joker strap himself in and strapping herself in as well. She pulled out of the lot and proceeded down the one-way street that led towards the main road. "Ugh, I hate driving manual," she fussed, pressing on the clutch, which appeared to be extremely stiff.

"You get used to it," the Joker told her.

"You're leaving Michael Coons all alone at the hideout?" Kitty Liz asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah."

"But what if the cops arrive unannounced?? Aren't you afraid he'll get caught?"

"Meh."

"What if he gets shot at? Or hurt? What if he dies??"

"I hope he dies," the Joker replied.

And on that note, Kitty Liz closed the subject.

"Where will your henchmen go now that the hideout's been busted?" she asked instead.

"They'll find a way… maybe sleep in their cars for the time being, I guess. If they've stolen any yet."

As Kitty Liz found herself approaching Wayne's Avenue, a certain feeling of dread descended upon her.

"You don't suspect people'll recognize us?" she asked nervously, pausing before turning onto the street.

"We DID change the license plates," the Joker reminded her.

"Yeah, but what if the CAR is recognized, or US??"

"First, this is a undercover cop car - it's meant to blend in. Second, it's got shaded windows. Plus, I'm not wearing my makeup. And as for you, you're probably even better disguised than I am."

"Alright," Kitty Liz said, and proceeded onto the road.

The Joker turned out to be perfectly right about the effectivity of their disguises. Even though they both kept a close eye on the cars around them, nobody appeared to be paying any attention to them. By the time they had to exit Wayne's Avenue, Kitty Liz had grown a lot more comfortable with the exposure they were receiving. She turned onto a side street and continued east until she reached Claystone Drive, which she followed for about ten minutes. The drive soon turned into a gravel road, and then a dirt road, and finally culminated in the great expanse of Claystone Beach. Suddenly, the police radio crackled to life.

"A42, come in, A42."

"A42 here, what's going on?"

"We've just received a phone call about some suspicious behaviour happening at Claystone Beach earlier this morning. We'd like you to go check out the last cabin at the northern end of the beach."

"Copy that. I'm in the area and will be at the destination in a few minutes. Over."

Kitty Liz swore loudly and turned the car around and back onto the dirt road. She followed the road until she reached a drive that led off to the side and disappeared into a patch of trees. She turned onto the drive, and only came to a stop when she was certain that the car was not longer visible from the road. She slammed on the brakes, shut down the engine, and turned to give the Joker a desperate look.

"Please don't tell me they were talking about OUR cabin…." the Joker said weakly.

"THEY WERE," came Kitty Liz's exasperated response.

"And what 'suspicious behaviour' were they talking about..?"

"I don't know! It's beyond me, I-"

"Did anybody SEE you leaving the cabin this morning..?"

"No! Of course not! How could I..?!?…." Kitty Liz exclaimed, sounding offended, but then her face went ghostly white, "… Yeah.… There was some woman walking down the beach, but I was already outside when I saw her. It was too late to do anything other than act normal."

The Joker sighed in frustration, while Kitty Liz hung her head and started running her fingers through her hair apprehensively.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked hopelessly. "They are bound to trace that house to its owner, and then to me. Judging by the signs of activity, they'll know that I'm still alive, and that I'm obviously not held hostage by you."

"Who ACTUALLY owns that house?"

"An old friend of mine, but she's moved away."

"You know, I have been planning to play with the emotions of these people for at least a couple more days, so the news that you are still alive will not benefit me in that respect. I can always actually kill you…" (Kitty Liz's eyes grew wide) "… but I'm afraid that I might regret doing that afterwards. Of course, I can pretend to kill you… AGAIN."

"A mock murder?? We would never be able to pull that off! Believe, me, I know these kinds of things - we would need evidence, a believable back-story, not to mention a BODY…" Kitty Liz burst out, ranting.

"You need a body?" the Joker asked. "I happen to have three of them."

Kitty Liz stopped ranting, realizing that the Joker was right. However, she knew that there was a catch.

"Yeah, but it's not MINE, now, is it?" she spat.

"What if you died in an explosion? No body would ever be found in that case."

"There would still be remains, no matter what. However... the remains would be very mutilated and highly unrecognizable. So - in the case of an explosion - we might actually be able to pull it off. But even then, these days it takes as little as a dental analysis to identify a body..."

"We'll figure it out," the Joker told her, "We're gonna make headlines once more."

The radio was hissing to life again.

"This is A42, anyone there?"

"A42, this is headquarters, report."

"I'm at the northernmost beach-house on Claystone Beach. It's currently empty, but there are evident signs of permanent residence, with recent activity."

"How recent?"

"This morning, sir."

"Stay put, A42. Await for crime scene investigation to arrive within the hour. If anybody else appears, they are to be held for questioning. I think we've got a lead on Catherine Elizabeth Francis!"

"Roger that. Over."

"We better get out of here," the Joker said, speaking Kitty Liz's mind.

"Back to the hideout?" she asked.

"We need a body, so we better hurry before headquarters gets suspicious about the absence of A31 from their vehicle."

"Roger that," Kitty Liz replied, mocking the radio. Then she turned the car around, drove back to Claystone Drive, and followed the road away from the beach until they were at a safe distance from trouble.


	6. Chapter 6

_Everything Burns_

Back on Wayne's Avenue, Kitty Liz was beginning to feel enthusiastic again. It seemed that the idea of faking a murder had become attractive to her. Of course, the mission promised to be a challenge of great proportions, maybe even more complicated than setting up the escape of the Joker, but Kitty Liz now welcomed a task that she could tackle as Shadow, and not as Kitty Liz. By the time that she and the Joker had left the main avenue, Kitty Liz was feeling excited, if not eager, to commence the operation. She pulled into the lot in front of the hideout, and noted with relief that no police cars were there. A curtain moved behind one of the first floor windows of the garage, and a few moments later Michael Coons came walking lazily through the front door. The Joker and Kitty Liz got out of the car to greet him.

"What's going on, boss? Why are you back?" Coons asked, walking up to them with his hands in his pockets.

"Get out of the way, Coons," the Joker growled in response, shoving past him.

Walking quickly, the Joker and Kitty Liz entered the garage and started climbing the stairs up to the second floor. Coons trudged after them, looking irritated.

"We should take the woman," Kitty Liz said as they entered the Joker's apartment, "So at least the gender would correspond."

"Fine by me."

"So, where are we going to stage the explosion?"

"Stage??I never said anything about 'staging' the explosion."

"So we're actually going to blow something up?"

"Oh, certainly. How is that old apartment doing of yours? No emotional attachments, I presume?"

"None whatsoever. … Wait… you want to blow up my apartment!?" Kitty Liz exclaimed, spinning around to face the Joker. He was grinning at her.

"It would be the perfect hint of irony, don't you think? Having you die in your old place of residence, the place that is supposed to be considered your refuge?"

"Yeah, but how are we going to accomplish THAT?? My apartment building is right in the middle of downtown! And my apartment itself is all the way up on the sixth floor! How are we ever going to get a body up there without being seen?"

"I have a few ideas…." the Joker replied, and wandered off into his bedroom. Kitty Liz followed him. When she entered the room, she couldn't help but notice how tidy it was compared to the rest of the Joker's apartment. There was, however, a very thick layer of dust on the floor and on all of the furniture, but other than that, the room was in perfect order. Leaving footprints in the months-old dust, Kitty Liz and the Joker walked up to a closet built into the wall opposite to the Joker's bed. Inside the closet was what looked like the equipment of a demolition company. There were boxes filled with dynamite, containers of gas, and other explosives so complicated that Kitty Liz couldn't even name them.

"Whoa," was all she could say.

The Joker was rummaging in the depths of his closet, showing no interest in his weapons of destruction. He emerged a few seconds later, holding a great, elongated cardboard box.

"Perfect!" he said, carrying the box out of the bedroom and laying it down on the living room floor. Kitty Liz immediately knelt down to see what it contained. She opened up one end of the box, peered inside, and was instantly discouraged by the fact that the box contained nothing. She got up, a little confused, and then examined the exterior of the box. She realized then that the box used to contained unassembled furniture parts.

"Why-" Kitty Liz began, but the Joker cut her off.

"What do you think?" he asked, walking over to the cop in the electric chair, "Will she fit?"

"I'd say so," Kitty Liz replied, preparing to aid the Joker in stuffing the body into the box.

The Joker, however, was looking at the electric chair uncertainly. He backed away from it, suddenly wary.

"Ey, Coons!" he called out.

Michael Coons emerged from the kitchen with a half-eaten apple in his hand, looking bored.

"Coons, turn off the electric chair for me," the Joker told him, waving him over.

"And how do you suppose I will do that?" Coons asked, putting down his apple and walking over reluctantly.

"Don't ask questions and do what you're told," the Joker snapped in response.

Coons suddenly looked nervous. Realizing that the Joker was completely serious, Coons gulped and knelt down beside the chair. A length of thick, bare wire ran from one of the chair's legs to the nearest electrical outlet, into which it was forcibly jammed. He reached for the wire hesitantly, but then drew back and gave the Joker a begging look.

"Maybe if we got Schiff over here…" he began.

"Schiff has more important things to do," the Joker replied coldly.

Coons flinched at the Joker's words, and then turned to look hopefully at Kitty Liz. Kitty Liz looked down at the floor, knowing that there was nothing she could do. The Joker DID want Coons dead, after all.

Coons made a small, incoherent sound by the chair, and looked down in defeat. In doing so, his eyes fell on Kitty Liz's hands, and an instant idea struck him. He jumped up and ran into the kitchen, returning wearing a pair of thick oven gloves. Smiling at his own genius, he bent over the wire and carefully grasped it with both hands. When nothing happened, he proceeded to slowly pull it out of the outlet. Finally, accompanied by a violent outburst of sparks, the wire tumbled out of the jack. Coons grinned triumphantly.

"Now take those gloves off and touch it to make sure it's actually off," the Joker said, raining on Coons' parade.

Coons glowered at the Joker, then threw the oven mitts to the floor, and, closing his eyes, grasped the handles of the chair. A few moments passed, and he opened his eyes again in relief, completely unharmed. Then he gave the Joker another dirty look, got up, and stormed out of the apartment before he could be asked to carry out any more potentially life-threatening orders.

"Excellent!" the Joker piped up, proceeding to unbind the body of the cop from the chair.

"Hold on," Kitty Liz said, walking over. "We need to make sure there's nothing incombustible on her that can act as counterevidence. She's got her belt on, so that needs to be removed. There's plenty of metal on her shirt, and is she wearing a bulletproof vest under there??"

The Joker pulled the cop's broken radio out of its holder, and threw it aside.

"Her gun's gone… unsurprisingly," he remarked.

Then he took a knife out of his pocket, and started cutting away at the policewoman's shirt. Once he had pulled it off, he began to work at the black vest she wore underneath. Having got rid of that, the Joker turned his attention to the cop's belt, and, using his knife to help, he removed it and put it aside.

"Anything in her pockets?" Kitty Liz asked.

"Cell phone, ID, and wallet," the Joker said, tossing away the remains of said things as he pulled them out. Meanwhile, Kitty Liz pulled the watch off of the policewoman's hand.

"Okay, she's clear," Kitty Liz said.

The Joker proceeded to lift the body out of the chair, then drag it over to where Kitty Liz stood ready with the box. They stuffed the body inside unceremoniously, sealed up the box's ends with large amounts of duct tape - which came, unsurprisingly to Kitty Liz, from the Joker's pockets - and carried the box out of the apartment, downstairs, and out into the lot. Michael Coons appeared to have left.

Kitty Liz and the Joker carried the box up to the car, then stopped, presented with a brand-new challenge - no space within the vehicle.

"How are we ever going to get her inside…?" Kitty Liz asked, straining with the weight.

The Joker looked thoughtful for a second, but then he got an idea.

"We'll just tie her to the roof!" he exclaimed. "Here, put her down and help me find some rope."

They set the box down in front of the car, and disappeared back into the garage. There, Kitty Liz followed the Joker into the downstairs apartment, where he began to upturn his henchmen's belongings.

"Aha," he called triumphantly, unearthing a length of rope amongst the sleeping bags along the walls.

"Now, I'm not exactly sure why," he said, running the rope through his hands to untangle it, "but Soo always keeps this at his side when he sleeps. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he's suicidal, though."

Kitty Liz gave the Joker a sideways look, and he burst out laughing. Kitty Liz shook her head, smiling nonetheless, and finally, they left the apartment. Out on the landing, Kitty Liz turned to go outside, but then realized that the Joker wasn't following.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked. "We're not staging the explosion, remember? All of the explosives are still upstairs."

So, instead, they made their way upstairs into the Joker's apartment again, and back into his neglected bedroom. Back by the closet, the Joker handed Kitty Liz a big box of dynamite, took a second box of explosives himself, and then led the way downstairs and outside. They carried the boxes up to the car, where the Joker took an empty duffel bag from the back seat, transferred the contents of both boxes into it, and fitted it in beside the duffel bag already in the trunk. Then he folded up the boxes from the explosives, and jammed them into the whatever little space was still available inside the car.

Now came the challenge of securing the body box on top of the car. After Kitty Liz and the Joker hoisted the box onto the roof, it took them about ten minutes to rope it down properly. Eventually, however, it was firmly fastened to the top of the Chevy.

"Alright," the Joker said happily, "now all we have to do is torch the entire hideout, and we'll be good to go."

Kitty Liz's eyes lit up, and a mischievous smile spread across her face.

"I want to help," she said excitedly.

"Of course," the Joker replied, and they returned to the garage once again.

Back at the closet in the Joker's bedroom, the Joker handed Kitty Liz a container of gasoline, and picked one up himself.

"How about you do the downstairs apartment, while I'll do the upstairs one?" he asked, more as a command. Kitty Liz nodded and bounded away enthusiastically.

She ran down the stairs happily, and stopped before the apartment door. Before entering, she twisted off the cap of her gasoline container and tossed it onto the floor. She walked inside, and immediately began splashing everything in her way with gasoline. She splashed the table, the sleeping bags, and as much of the floor and walls as she deemed reasonable. After soaking the main room, she moved on to the kitchen and bathroom. Eventually, she ran out, so she left the empty container sitting on the dripping table, and walked out of the apartment.

The Joker was making his way down the stairs, splashing them with gasoline as he went. Kitty Liz noticed that he was dressed in his civilian disguise once again: he wore his long trench coat, a scarf, and a hat that concealed his hair. He dumped the remaining contents of his container onto the first floor landing, tossed the container away, and turned to Kitty Liz with a wicked smile on his face.

"What?" she asked.

"I set up a time bomb upstairs and we now have less than a minute to get out of here before everything blows," the Joker replied, the grin never leaving his face.

Kitty Liz's eyebrows crawled up her forehead in a questioning manner, but the Joker's grin didn't go away. Realizing that he was not just messing with her, she gasped, and bolted through the open door. The Joker laughed and ran after her. Not ten seconds later, a powerful explosion shook the air, shattering the windows of the upstairs apartment, and sending the second floor into flames.

Without daring to pause or look behind them, Kitty Liz and the Joker sprinted towards the car. They got into the front, with Kitty Liz driving again. She put the car into gear, pressed on the gas, and sped out of the lot. Their farewell was a secondary explosion as the fire reached the remainder of the explosives in the Joker's closet.

It only took about fifteen minutes or so to reach Kitty Liz's apartment. Kitty Liz didn't enjoy these fifteen minutes, however, because the Joker wouldn't stop laughing about their very serious near-death experience. By the time her apartment building came into view, though, Kitty Liz realized that she had graver things to worry about.

"What side is your apartment on?" the Joker asked in a care-free manner, lounging in his seat with his arms behind his head.

"The opposite side from the one that we're seeing now," Kitty Liz replied, feeling more and more uneasy by the second.

"Just making sure what side we'll be watching the fireworks from," the Joker informed her, smiling to himself.

"It'll be fine," he added with a wave of his hand, catching the anxiety in her voice.

Kitty Liz pulled into the parking lot outside one of the side entrances, and turned the engine off with a shuddering breath. The Joker immediately pulled his scarf over the lower half of his face, got out of the car, and began to work at the rope binding the box. Kitty Liz continued to sit inside, breathing shakily, her limbs suddenly feeling very heavy. Finally, however, she managed to get a hold of herself, and steady her breathing. She reached into the back seat, fumbled with the bag of clothes she's stuffed in there earlier, and pulled out her gray winter coat. Then, she got out of the car, put the coat on hastily, and began to help the Joker with the rope. After they have unbound the box, they lifted it off of the roof, and laid it down on the ground. Then, the Joker retrieved the bag of explosives from the trunk, and placed it on top of the box. Lastly, he took a gun from one of the boxes inside the car, checked that it was loaded, and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Ready?" he asked Kitty Liz. She nodded, and they picked up the box with the bag on top, and carried it between them towards the door. The Joker threw the door open with one hand, and they proceeded into the building.

"I hope you're not expecting us to use the stairs," Kitty Liz huffed.

"Oh, dear God, no," the Joker huffed in response. "We'll have to take chances on the elevator."

They walked down the corridor they were in, not meeting anyone on their way, and soon arrived at the elevators. Thankfully, there was no-one there once again. The Joker pushed the elevator button, and they were about to set the box down onto the floor as they waited, when the elevator doors opened in front of them. And, to their greatest misfortune, there was someone inside, coming up from the basement.

She was an elderly lady who looked to be in her late sixties. She looked timid and good-natured like most women of her age, and didn't look like someone likely to start a quarrel. Unfortunately, this was clearly not her floor, and she showed no interest in getting out. There wouldn't have been a reason for worry, however, if it wasn't for the fact that she also knew Kitty Liz. She smiled warmly at the pair outside the elevator doors, clearly not suspecting anything, and clearly not recognizing Shadow. Kitty Liz, however, recognized her, and stood rooted to the floor, unable to move. The Joker glanced at Kitty Liz questioningly, but when she didn't acknowledge him, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

"We'll wait for the next one," he told the lady with a nod of his head.

"Oh, no, no, please, come in!" the lady tattered, pushing the 'doors open' button and surveying the load between Kitty Liz and the Joker with a concerned expression on her face. Finally realizing that she hadn't been recognized, Kitty Liz turned to the Joker to let him know that it wasn't worth arguing. Reluctantly, they shuffled into the elevator, where the lady was ready to help them. She picked up the bag from the box, commenting on how heavy it was, and set it down on the floor for them. Meanwhile, Kitty Liz and the Joker put the box down on its end, leaning it against one of the elevator walls.

"What floor?" the lady asked, before they could press the button themselves.

"Sixth," the Joker said through gritted teeth. Looking happy to help, the lady pressed the appropriate button, and they were finally on their way.

"I've never seen you two here before," the lady said gently in an attempt to initiate conversation. Kitty Liz noticed that she was looking at her closely, and wasn't sure whether it was because of her mask, or because the lady was beginning to recognize her. Kitty Liz gave the lady what she hoped looked like a friendly smile, and then immediately became occupied with the ribbons on her gloves.

"Are you going to a party?" the lady pressed on, continuing to stare at Kitty Liz. Realizing now that she was finding the mask suspicious, Kitty Liz shot the Joker a warning look, and saw, to her horror, that he was pulling a knife out of his pocket. Kitty Liz shook her head violently, but at that moment the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened with a characteristic ding.

"That's my floor!" the lady exclaimed, slightly surprised. Kitty Liz watched with relief as the Joker re-pocketed his knife.

"Have a good day!" the lady called as she walked out of the elevator.

"You too, ma'am," the Joker called after her, and as soon as the doors closed on her beaming face, Kitty Liz and the Joker were able to breathe a big sigh of relief.

"That was the most stressful elevator ride of my life," Kitty Liz confessed, leaning against the wall in an attempt to relax her tensed body, "I know that lady, I used to talk to her every morning at the Starbucks down the street."

"Well, it's a good thing that she no longer knows you, isn't it?" the Joker replied irritably, "And you could've at least helped me out by saying something."

"Are you mad!?" Kitty Liz exclaimed, "What if she recognized my voice??"

"I see your point," the Joker admitted.

"We're almost at the sixth floor," Kitty Liz informed him nervously.

"I think it'll be quicker and easier if you take the bag and I'll drag the box out myself," the Joker told her. "How far is it to your apartment?"

"It's just a little way down the hall."

Before anything else could be said, the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors chimed open. Kitty Liz and the Joker scanned the hallway to ensure that it was empty, then Kitty Liz grabbed the bag of explosives and held the elevator doors open as the Joker dragged the box out. Once they've exited the elevator, Kitty Liz led the way down the hallway, and they came to a stop in front of apartment number 125.

"What if the apartment's being watched?" Kitty Liz whispered, glancing up and down the hall once again.

"We both know that's unlikely," the Joker replied. "But I did bring a gun in case we'd run into someone… unpleasant."

"I see. Okay, I don't have my key, but that's fine because I've practiced opening this lock with bobby pins at least a hundred times before," Kitty Liz said, speaking with more confidence now. She set down her duffel bag, and pulled a pin out of her hair. Meanwhile, the Joker leaned his box against the wall, and pulled his gun out as a precaution. Quietly, Kitty Liz pushed the pin into the lock, and turned. There was click, and Kitty Liz twisted the handle and pushed the door open.

The inside of the apartment was very dark, as the curtains on all of the windows and the balcony door were drawn. Stretching across the front hall before them was a length of police tape, but other than that, the apartment looked just as it did when Kitty Liz last saw it. There was not a living soul within, but the Joker insisted that he went in first and made sure. Holding his gun out in front of him, he slipped inside, breaking the police tape as he crept. He checked every room, but everything was as empty as it looked.

"It's clear," he said, returning to get the body box. Kitty Liz grabbed her duffel bag, they went in, and she locked the door behind them.

Kitty Liz's apartment was very nice - three-bedroom, richly furnished, and very proper. It looked like the apartment of a person who might have had a lot of money, but who wasn't really one for spending. The reality, however, was somewhat different. Kitty Liz would have gladly agreed to a one-bedroom apartment, but the smallest residence her parents agreed to buy for her was this three-bedroom one. They would have much rather bought her a mansion.

"Where should we have you die?" the Joker asked, pulling down his scarf, and looking around.

"I'd like to die on my sofa, there, the one in front of the television," Kitty Liz replied, pointing to the black leather sofa in her living room. The Joker dragged the box into the room, while Kitty Liz followed him carrying the bag of explosives. She put the bag down on top of the coffee table, then helped the Joker hoist the box onto the sofa. Then, the Joker fetched a couple of knives from his pocket, handed one to Kitty Liz, and they began to cut at the edges of the box. Pretty soon, the entire upper half of the box was off, and the body of the cop completely uncovered.

"Should we dump her with gas?" the Joker asked. "Because I brought a canister in case we needed to."

"Good idea, Mr. J," Kitty Liz replied. "May I do that?"

"Knock yourself out. I'll start setting up the explosives in the meantime."

The Joker opened up the duffel bag and handed Kitty Liz a small canister of gasoline. She began to pour the jug's contents over the policewoman's body, while the Joker started pulling out all of the explosives he's brought.

"Done," Kitty Liz said, shaking the final drops of gasoline onto the policewoman's face.

"Okay, let me rig the charges now," the Joker told her, and Kitty Liz stood aside.

As the Joker began setting up the charges around the perimeter of the box, Kitty Liz picked up the now-empty duffel bag and wandered off into her bedroom. There, she packed some spare clothes and other personal items, and proceeded to visit the bathroom next. She acquired more essentials there, and then dragged the bag back into her living room.

"What's that?" she asked, watching as the Joker set up a peculiar-looking battery unit at the head of the box.

"It's a battery that will provide the charge to detonate the bombs I've set up," the Joker explained. "It's also equipped to receive the radio signal sent out by the detonator."

"So the charges will be detonated over a distance?" Kitty Liz asked curiously.

"Yeah," the Joker answered, then took a remote control transmitter out of his pocket and tossed it to Kitty Liz.

"That's a detonator?" she asked, holding the device tenderly in her hands and eyeing it suspiciously.

"It has an antenna and a big red button," the Joker replied with a laugh.

"I'll just put it here, then," Kitty Liz said nervously, carefully placing the detonator on top of the coffee table.

The Joker burst out laughing again, shaking his head. Then he continued working with his explosives. Using electrical wire, he started connecting the charges he's set up in a series, commencing with the battery. Meanwhile, Kitty Liz went on packing things into her duffel bag. She carried the bag into the kitchen, where she raided her fridge and her cupboards, filling the bag with more-or-less imperishable produce. Then, she dragged the bag into the hallway, and started cramming pairs of shoes and coats from the closet into it. Finally, she drew the bag closed, and returned to the living room to see what the Joker was up to now.

By this time, the Joker had finished connecting the charges, and was now placing sticks of dynamite into the box, on top of the policewoman's body. He appeared to be considering something for a few moments, then shrugged and stuck a stick of dynamite into the woman's mouth. Kitty Liz made a sickened sound from behind him.

"What?" he asked, turning around. "That gets rid of the possibility of them doing a dental analysis."

Kitty Liz made another sickened sound, so the Joker got up, and handed her the remaining six sticks of dynamite.

"Here, get busy. I'm sure you can think of some… creative_…_ places to put them all."

A maniacal grin slowly spread over Kitty Liz's face as she surveyed the explosives the Joker was holding out for her. She threw a look into his insanity-touched eyes, and found that the insanity was beginning to rub off on her. She grabbed the sticks of dynamite from him, and immediately decided on her first location. She skipped up to her balcony, and placed two sticks of dynamite beside the sliding door. Then, she skipped into the bathroom, and placed one stick of dynamite onto the toilet seat. Next, she bounced into the kitchen. There, she placed one stick of dynamite into the microwave, another into the oven, and finally, she flung open her fridge and placed one on the shelf beside the cheesecake.

"I've never liked chocolate anyways," she said out loud, sending herself into a fit of giggles.

She was about to leave the kitchen when she thought of something. She opened up the cupboard underneath her stove to find a large bottle of vegetable oil there. Giggling even more now, she picked up the bottle, opened it, and started dumping its contents onto the counter and the kitchen floor. She came backing out of the kitchen, pouring oil in her wake, and backed straight into the Joker. He turned around in surprise, noticed what she was doing, and began laughing at her initiative.

"It seems I've taught you well!" he exclaimed with a wild grin on his face.

Kitty Liz smiled up at him, and continued on her way. After paying an oily visit to all of the rooms in her apartment, she returned to the living room and sprinkled the remains of the oil onto the thick brown carpet.

"I'm done with the explosives now," the Joker let her know, pointing at the blinking red light on the battery's radio receiver. He was holding the detonator in his hand, and looked ready to leave. Kitty Liz, however, was struck by yet another crazy idea.

"Just hold one sec," she told him, beginning to giggle again. "But we must leave the moment I'm done. I think I better go and open the door then."

Kitty Liz ran down the hallway, the Joker watching after her with a mixture of confusion and curiosity on his face. Taking a bobby pin out of her hair, Kitty Liz unlocked the front door, and immediately dashed back into the living room. Still giggling, she ran excitedly into the kitchen, the Joker following her with evident interest now. There, looking at the Joker with a mad smile on her face, she turned all four of the gas burners on her stove to full, and an ominous hissing filled the room. After a few moments, the smell of gas was strong and suffocating around them, but instead of leaving, Kitty Liz and the Joker were overwhelmed by a fit laughter. It was only when they were actually beginning to choke that Kitty Liz grabbed the Joker's hand and pulled him out of the kitchen hastily.

Half-chocking, half-laughing, they ran across the living room and into the hallway. There, Kitty Liz threw the duffel bag over her shoulder, while the Joker opened the front door a crack to check that the coast was clear. He flashed her a delighted smile, then pulled his scarf over his face and pushed the door open completely. They quickly exited the gas-filling apartment, controlling their laughter now that they were out in the open. They had to pause while Kitty Liz shut and locked the door, and then they were running, running as quickly as possible away from the impeding catastrophe.

"Now, we use the stairs," the Joker said. He took Kitty Liz by the hand and pulled her along in a frantic dash out of the deadly confines of the building.

A few minutes later, they burst through the side door and into the fresh, damp air. Darkness was falling, the rain had ceased, and the horizon was tinted with the reddish hue of setting sun. It was beautiful, and the delicious smell of wet pavement was all around them. Kitty Liz paused to take a few slow deep breaths of the sweet-smelling air, but the Joker was suddenly pulling her along again.

"This is my second-favourite smell in all of Gotham," she told him as they ran across the parking lot to where their car was parked.

"Oh, yeah?" the Joker asked. "And what's your first-favourite smell?"

Kitty Liz felt herself turning red, but was spared the torment of replying as they have then reached their vehicle. The Joker got into the driver's seat this time, while Kitty Liz threw her duffel bag into the trunk, and got into the passenger seat. The Joker pulled down his scarf, and they sat quietly for a few moments, trying to catch their breaths. Finally, the Joker started the car, put it into gear, and pulled out of the parking spot.

"We need to find a safe place to detonate the bomb from, preferably with a good view," he said as he pulled onto the main street.

"The Starbucks. It's to the west, and it has a clear view of the building."

"Starbucks is over-priced," the Joker remarked, "but I guess this sort of special occasion does make it worth a visit."

The Joker drove one block down the street, and pulled into the parking lot of the Starbucks suggested by Kitty Liz. He parked the car in the far, shady corner of the parking lot, but made sure that they had an open view of Kitty Liz's apartment building. He shut down the engine, and they sunk into silence and obscurity. Suddenly, the Joker began to giggle.

"I…" he started, but was taken over by giggles, "I…" he tried again, but with the same result, "I just had the most amazing idea…" he finally managed, but started laughing again, "Just thinking about it makes me laugh…" he choked, "Okay…. Okay…. I'm going to call up the cops," he said, "and tell them that you're about to get blown to smithereens in your old apartment."

"Why??" Kitty Liz exclaimed, confused.

"Because it will be hilarious!" the Joker cried out, and was immediately overcome by uncontrollable laughter. Kitty Liz watched him with her eyes wide, but then suddenly found herself beginning to giggle too.

"Okay, okay," the Joker said, holding up his hand as he tried to steady himself. He wiped his eyes, then picked up the microphone from the police radio and brought it up to his mouth.

"Come in, come in," he said, laughing silently. "This is A31, come in."

"A31, this is headquarters, good God, what happened to you guys?"

"We were… we were…" the Joker began, but the hysteria was getting out of control again, "we were caught by the Joker and then we exploded."

The Joker turned away from the microphone and buried his face in the collar of his coat in an attempt to stifle his laughter. Kitty Liz was giggling beside him with her hands over her mouth.

"Who is this?" the radio barked, making it even harder for Kitty Liz and the Joker to control themselves. Tears streaming down his face, the Joker looked at Kitty Liz with his finger pressed to his lips, and then turned to the microphone again.

"I am the one with whom all your quarrels lie!" the Joker replied in an overly-dramatic fashion, unintentionally reminding Kitty Liz of John Creed.

"Listen, I'm tired of playing games with you," the radio said threateningly.

"Goddamn it!" the Joker yelled. "If you would've been Batman, it would've taken you twice as little time to figure this out. Stevens and Maher are dead. And now I'm holding Catherine Elizabeth hostage in her own goddamned apartment. So if you don't get here fast, she'll be blown sky-high and straight out of Gotham! Over and out."

The Joker placed the microphone back into its holder, and turned to smile triumphantly at Kitty Liz.

"No, wait!" the radio blurted out.

"Too late.…" the Joker crooned.

"Who is this???" the radio asked desperately.

"Headquarters is really quite an idiot," the Joker remarked.

"Alright," the radio cried out once again. "All available units presently in the downtown area, converge at 754 Timesdale Street. I repeat, 754 Timesdale. The victim appears to be in apartment number 125. Keep you eyes open for a brown 1980 Chevrolet Impala, and be cautious - the aggressor is most likely armed!"

"He is really beginning to get annoying," the Joker said with a sigh, and turned the volume down until only a faint mumbling could be heard.

Three blaring police cars suddenly came speeding down the road in front of the Starbucks, but none of them noticed the brown Chevy parked in the lot. More sirens approaching from other directions told that even more police cars were on their way, and their flashing lights could be seen coming to a stop in front of 754 Timesdale. The Joker took the detonator out of his pocket, looked at it thoughtfully, and then held it out for Kitty Liz. Kitty Liz looked it and then up at the Joker, an expression of total disbelief on her face.

"I think you should do the honours, Shadow," the Joker said, grinning at her. Still unable to fully believe what was happening, Kitty Liz took the detonator from him.

"What do you think, how long should we give them?" the Joker asked, nodding in the direction on the flashing lights.

"Three minutes," Kitty Liz replied shakily.

"Alright, I'm timing," the Joker replied, pulling out his pocket watch.

As if to commemorate the passing of apartment number 125, the setting sun decided to make one final feeble attempt to illuminate the world. A few of its vivid red rays broke through the cloud cover, and fell onto the darkened windows of Kitty Liz's condemned apartment. The sun shone weakly for a few strained moments, and then slowly began to sink behind the horizon.

"Well?" Kitty Liz asked, getting impatient as her heart beat faster and faster.

"Almost…." the Joker replied, holding up a finger, his eyes on his watch.

The sun was really faltering now.

"Hold on…" the Joker was saying, "not yet… not yet…"

The sun gave one last pathetic glint in the western windows, and then the world was submerged into darkness.

"NOW!" the Joker cried out, dropping his finger.

The short pause that followed her pressing the button on the detonator seemed like an agonizing eternity to Kitty Liz, even though in reality it only lasted a fraction of a second.

And then it happened.

Somewhere in the shadows of her living room, the red flashing light stopped blinking, and at about the same time the apartment door was flung open by a policeman, four others behind him. They didn't have far to go, however, because their destination was literally sent flying into their faces. The explosion shattered not only the windows of Kitty Liz's apartment, but also most of the windows on that entire side of the building. More explosions followed within the second, the dynamite going off just as planned: Kitty Liz's balcony was blown completely off of its supports, and it came crashing down to the pavement below…. Kitty Liz sunk in her seat, frightened and at the same time fascinated by what she had done.

The sounds of the explosions were fading now, and were being replaced by the sounds of fire alarms, car sirens, and barking dogs. The Joker was laughing psychotically beside Kitty Liz; he grinned at her, and she smiled back, feeling less and less frightened and more and more insane. The Joker suddenly leaned towards her, took her face in his hands, and placed a very rough kiss on her cheek.

"That," he exclaimed, turning back to look at the flaming sixth floor, "was perfect!"

"Yes, that was…." Kitty Liz agreed quietly.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Kitty Liz found herself being driven through a neighbourhood that she had never visited before. It was very dark, dirty, and looked completely abandoned. The one-way street down which the Joker was driving was surrounded on both sides by tall, monotone walls, and neither did it have any streetlights. Only occasionally was the stretch of wall interrupted by a dirty-looking alley, but the alleys were just as dark and ominous as everything else that was around them now.

"Where are we going?" Kitty Liz asked the Joker wearily after another five minutes of the same sort of progress.

"Somewhere safe. Somewhere closer to home," the Joker replied.

He was looking at the alleys he was passing more intently now, as if though he was counting them.

"Aha!" he exclaimed, finally coming to a stop beside an alleyway to his right. He turned the car into it, barely missing the wall, and drove until the car was about halfway through. Then he shut down the engine, got out, and disappeared into the blackness engulfing the vehicle.

Kitty Liz opened her door, careful not to ram it into the wall beside it. She climbed out of the car, slightly shaky from the day's earlier events, and walked around it to get to the other side. The Joker was nowhere to be found.

"Hello?" Kitty Liz called weakly.

"Goddamn it!" came the Joker's voice to Kitty Liz right, followed by a big crashing sound. Startled, Kitty Liz reached out a hand to find the wall at her side, and was surprised when she realized that there was no wall, only more empty space.

"OW," the Joker growled angrily, sounding like he'd just fallen over something. Kitty Liz walked towards his voice with her hand stretched out in front of her, but then finally her surroundings were illuminated. She was standing in the middle of a square lot surrounded on three sides by the walls of a building. The fourth side was where stood the Chevrolet. In front of her, beside a toppled-over dumpster, sat the Joker. He was sitting on top of a pile of what appeared to be the contents of said dumpster, and he had a flaming lighter in his hand.

"That's better," he said, getting up.

"What's going on here?" Kitty Liz asked, shivering in the falling temperature.

"I'm sure you're tired and I thought we'd stop somewhere for the night."

"Here??"

"If you have any better ideas, I'll be happy to hear them," the Joker replied with a smile on his face. Needless to say, Kitty Liz remained silent.

The Joker was waving his lighter around him, looking for something. Finally, he got a hold of an old metal barrel, shook its contents out onto the ground, and stood it in the corner of the lot. Kitty Liz watched him silently as he began to forage for wooden crates, break them apart, and throw them into the barrel. Next, he unearthed an old newspaper, set it on fire with his lighter, and placed it into the barrel. A few minutes later, there was a blazing fire inside the barrel, sending flames and sparks into the frigid air.

"Do you get to live out on the streets often?" Kitty Liz inquired as the Joker walked past her to get back to the Chevy.

"Occasionally," the Joker replied, searching through the boxes and bags within the car. "Never against my own will. Only when it is where I'd rather be."

He pulled a pair of blankets out of the back seat, and walked back towards the barrel.

"You can sleep in the car if you want," he called to Kitty Liz. "But I think I'll stay out here."

"I don't think I'll sleep tonight," Kitty Liz replied. "I've suffered one too many traumas for a single day."

The Joker laughed in response.

"Well, okay, come sit by the fire then."

Kitty Liz walked over to join the Joker, and he handed her one of his blankets. She wrapped it around herself and sat down onto the concrete beside him, her back against the wall.

"So this is it then? We're living on the streets from now on?" she asked, her spirits falling.

"Don't be ridiculous!" the Joker cried out. "Once we have money again, we'll get a new apartment, and it'll be even better than the last one."

"So… we have to rob a bank?"

"Yes."

"Tomorrow?"

The Joker laughed, amused by how naïve Kitty Liz was being.

"Silly Shadow. I know I said that I don't make plans, but a bank heist actually does take some planning. You need to choose a bank, find out how it's run, choose a suitable date and time, then figure out how exactly you're going to DO the robbery…. It's rather… complicated."

"What if I said that I happen to have a bank in mind, one that I'm rather... familiar… with?"

The Joker looked at Kitty Liz incredulously, but before he could ask her what in the world she was talking about, his cell phone rang.

"Yeah?" the Joker answered, pulling his cell phone out of some forgotten pocket in the depths of his coats. "… Oh, it's you. … Uh-huh, good. … No, not today. I'll contact you tomorrow. … Buh-bye." The Joker closed and re-pocketed his phone, and turned his attention back to Kitty Liz.

"That was Schiff," he explained. "He said that he has all your stuff ready. I told him that he'll give it to you tomorrow. Now… what were you saying?"

"I was saying that I think I've got the perfect bank for a robbery. It's small, old, and very old-fashioned. You know, as in big roomy vaults filled with wads of cash. The manager is ancient, and there's barely anyone else there during working hours. Tomorrow is a Sunday, so it will only be open until three. It won't be busy, so we should be able to take control of the building easily."

"That sounds like a really crappy bank. Does anyone even use it? Anyone - that is to say - loaded?"

"My grandmother did," Kitty Liz replied, her eyes flashing.

"Wait a…. Are trying to get me to steal your family fortune?" the Joker asked in disbelief.

"Well, at least my portion of the inheritance," Kitty Liz replied with a wicked smile.


	7. Chapter 7

_On the Move Again_

Kitty Liz opened her eyes to see a pale greyish sky above her. She was lying wrapped in a pair of blankets, on the pavement, beside a brown brick wall. She was a little startled to realize that she had fallen asleep after all.

It was morning now, a morning even warmer than yesterday's. Kitty Liz sat up, her body feeling very stiff from her uncomfortable slumber on the hard ground. But at least she wasn't cold. She brought her wrist up to her eyes to check what time it was, and was mildly surprised by the fact that she wasn't wearing a watch like she did most of the time.

"Well, that's a bit inconvenient…." she mumbled to herself, not expecting anyone to be listening. But someone was.

"What is it?" came the Joker's voice from around the overturned dumpster.

Kitty Liz smiled and got up, throwing her blankets to the ground, and began stretching out her sore muscles. Then she skipped over to the dumpster to see what the Joker was up to. He was sitting cross-legged beside a cracked mirror that he'd propped up against the side of the dumpster. He had two tubes of face paint lying in his lap, and a third tube, black, in his left hand. With his right hand, he was smearing black paint around his eyes, the finishing touches on his already red and white-painted face. Kitty Liz noticed that he'd ditched his brown trench coat, and was once again sporting his classic purple look.

"What's inconvenient?" the Joker asked again as she came into his sight.

"The fact that I don't have a watch," Kitty Liz replied, frowning.

The Joker pulled out his own watch and looked at it.

"It's nine o'clock," he told her. Then he capped the tube of black paint in his hand, and pocketed it along with the other two. "I do see your point, though. You quite certainly need a watch."

"You sound tired; did you not sleep much?" Kitty Liz asked, noting the air of exhaustion in the Joker's voice.

"Not really," he answered, standing up. "I was actually planning today's bank heist."

Kitty Liz's face lit up instantly.

"So we're actually going to do it??" she asked excitedly, grinning.

"I don't see why not," the Joker replied. "However, there are a few… technicalities… that we need to work out first."

"Like what?"

"First of all, we'll need somewhere to put the money. Our only option is the car, but as you know there is absolutely no room in there. So we'll need to dump the junk inside the car somewhere to make room for the money."

"Why not just leave everything here for the time being? I mean, nobody comes around here, do they?"

"Actually, this neighbourhood has become a sort of safe haven for the homeless. No cops and, surprisingly enough, no punks looking for trouble either. But if we do leave our stuff here, I guarantee you that it will be gone by lunchtime."

"I'm sure that there must be SOME place we can go."

"But that's not the worst of it, Shadow. I still need to assemble the henchies, because we will need them if we are to do this robbery. I don't even really know what we are doing, to be quite honest with you."

"I think that I have a pretty clear idea of how we're going to do this, Mr. J; and with the boys involved, it should be all the easier!"

"Oh, yeah?" the Joker asked, an amused little smile coming across his lips for the first time that morning. "And what exactly is your ingenious plan composed of?"

"Do you remember where we crashed the commercial van, on the day that we met? That place seemed pretty abandoned to me. Not even the cops bothered to check there. So, can't we dump our crap there?"

"Perhaps not the dock itself… but the cave… the cave might work," the Joker responded thoughtfully.

"The… cave?"

"Yes. Beside the dock, underneath the road, created when they built the dock, or maybe even back when they built the road."

"Great! See, this isn't so hard after all, is it, Mr. J?"

The Joker looked at Kitty Liz incredulously.

"Listen, missy, maybe you'd like to play cops and robbers all by yourself, hmmm?"

"Not at all. There wouldn't be any fun in doing it all on my own, now would there?"

"Alright then, quit chatting, and let's start getting ready."

"What about breakfast first, Mr. J?"

"You've got food?"

"Yeah, I got some things from my apartment yesterday."

"Alright then - get us something."

"Peanut butter and crackers okay, Mr. J?"

"Sounds fine to me."

Kitty Liz bounded away from the dumpster to where the Chevrolet stood and flung open the trunk. She rummaged through the duffel bag, and pulled out a jar of peanut butter, a box of crackers, two water bottles, and a spoon. The Joker, meanwhile, returned to the cold coal-filled barrel in the corner of the lot, and settled down on top of one of the blankets. Kitty Liz bounded over to where the Joker sat, and sat down beside him. She passed him a water bottle, and proceeded to open the peanut butter and crackers.

Fifteen minutes later, the Joker was spreading peanut butter over the last cracker from the box. He stuffed the entire thing into his mouth, washed it down with some water, and turned to Kitty Liz with a content expression on his face.

"Smart girl," he said, patting her on the head. "Of course, the fun hasn't begun yet. Come on - let's get going."

They got up and began packing their belongings back inside their car. Kitty Liz decided that she didn't have to conceal her villainous identity today, so she took off her coat and stuffed it into the back seat. They got into the front, the Joker driving again, and pulled out of the alley entrance in front of them.

Kitty Liz picked up her purse from between her feet, where it's been sitting, and pulled out her hairbrush. She removed all of her hair accessories and carefully brushed out her hair. Once she had put her accessories back in their place, she pulled out the stick of black lipstick that she's saved, and reapplied that as well.

"Getting ready for your big day?" the Joker inquired with a smile.

"What big day?" Kitty Liz asked in response.

"Well, today is the day the world will be officially introduced to the persona of Shadow."

"Oh, in that case, I better make sure that I look my best."

With the morning traffic, it took them about an hour of driving to find themselves in the center of the city. Kitty Liz sunk low into her seat as more and more people began to crowd the sidewalks around them.

"Don't worry," the Joker told her, smiling. "Even if somebody does have the nerve to call the police on us, we'll be a good ways away by the time they get here."

Taking the Joker's word for it, Kitty Liz sat back up in her seat. Of course, taking the Joker's word for ANYTHING, really, is usually a big mistake, and Kitty Liz soon found out why. With a sudden jerk of his steering wheel, the Joker sent the Chevrolet swerving onto the sidewalk, barely missing the pedestrians. He ploughed over a newspaper vending machine, sending newspapers flying into the air.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Kitty Liz cried out as the Joker stopped the car in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Getting a newspaper. What does is look like I'm doing?" the Joker replied calmly. Kitty Liz stared at him, wondering once again whether or not she was supposed to be taking him seriously. "Would you be so kind as to grab a newspaper?" the Joker asked coolly. Kitty Liz gaped at him and didn't move. "Now, please," the Joker said, his voice beginning to acquire an edgy tone. He stared at Kitty Liz for a few long moments, until finally she opened her door, leaned out of the car, and picked up one of the many newspapers littering the pavement. As she closed the door, he took his foot off the brake and veered back onto the main road. "So," he said, sounding cheerful again, "what does the Times have to say about last night's adventure?"

"Holy shit!" Kitty Liz exclaimed. "We've made the front page!"

"Oh, really?" the Joker asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah, listen to this! '… six people dead after yesterday's attack at the Timesdale Apartment Complex… five Gotham police officers and an unidentified victim were killed in a massive explosion at approximately 7:00 PM last night… the Joker remains the primary suspect… Although the lack of evidence makes the identification of the sixth victim impossible, the Joker's threat issued minutes before the explosion clearly stated that Miss Catherine Elizabeth Francis was being held hostage within the apartment at that time… This violent attack marks the passing of a well-beloved and exemplary Gotham citizen… May Catherine's family find comfort in this time of suffering.'"

Kitty Liz finished the article and put the newspaper down with a look of disbelief on her face. "Wow… I can't believe they fell for that," she said thoughtfully.

"Ha! It doesn't surprise me! You can feed the media basically ANYTHING these days."

"What do you mean?"

The Joker looked at Kitty Liz carefully for a few moments, then, having made up his mind, he said "Remember old Mayor Hill?"

"Hamilton Hill? Didn't he die from a heart attack?"

"Or so they said."

Just as Kitty Liz was about to ask for clarification, the Joker decided to point out to her where they were. Kitty Liz remembered the place immediately: the river on the right, the great warehouse in front that hid the road that lay beyond, and the 'sharp curve ahead' sign. Except that, this time, there were no police cars behind them, and they didn't have to turn onto the abandoned dock at top speed in an attempt to get away. As they passed the warehouse, the dock became visible on their right, and the Joker steered onto the drive carefully. To their greatest surprise, they found the commercial van still there, exactly how they left it.

"Won't you look at that," the Joker remarked as he parked his Chevy beside it.

"Alright," Kitty Liz said, "where's your magical cave of wonders?"

"Technically, it's not even a cave; and it's certainly not magical; neither does it contain any wonders; but it should be in the riverbank right over there." The Joker pointed out of his window at a row of sand-filled barrels to his right.

"All I see is barrels," Kitty Liz said.

"Well, that's because we'll have to move the barrels OUT OF THE WAY," the Joker replied, his voice thick with sarcasm. He got out of the car, with Kitty Liz right behind him. "The barrels are blocking the way onto the beach," he proceeded to explain as they walked.

Now at the edge of the dock, Kitty Liz looked behind the barrels and saw a stretch of pebbled beach, flanked on one side by the river and on the other by a tall, sheer riverbank; and, sure enough, about fifty feet away, was a cavernous opening in the rock face. The opening was more than forty feet long, and looked unnaturally symmetrical, like a very long rectangle.

"Help me move these," the Joker instructed, putting his weight on one of the barrels in an attempt to topple it over. Kitty Liz joined him, pushing on the barrel with her shoulder. The barrel tipped, spilling wet sand onto the pavement, and Kitty Liz and the Joker proceeded to roll it out of the way. After tipping and rolling away the rest of the barrels, they returned to get their car.

The Joker drove down the muddy slope and onto the river shore. As they drove up to the Joker's so-called 'cave', Kitty Liz realized that it was actually made of metal, like a giant rectangular metal box imbedded in the earth. Kitty Liz couldn't help but be reminded of an extremely low-roofed miniature parking garage. The Joker steered the car inside, and Kitty Liz noticed that the cave went another 15 feet inwards. The Joker parked the car in the far corner, shut down the engine, and turned to Kitty Liz with a gleeful

"We're here!"

Kitty Liz got out of the car and wandered away to explore the cave.

"This place is… so… COOL!" she exclaimed in amazement.

"I don't really see what's so amazing about a big metal box, but okay," the Joker replied, also getting out of the car.

"So nobody knows about this place, right?" Kitty Liz asked, trying not to get dripped on by the condensation on the ceiling.

"You can be quite certain that you and I are in the minority in that respect."

"Good. So when are we calling your henchmen?"

"Right now, actually," the Joker replied. He walked into the light of the cave entrance, and sat down with his back against the metal wall. As he was pulling out his cell phone, Kitty Liz joined him beside the wall, looking excited.

"I'm going to get all six of them on the line, and then put us on speakerphone," the Joker told her, "so you can explain to us all what you're planning to do."

"Alright," Kitty Liz said. The Joker put his cell phone into speaker mode, and began dialling the first number. A few seconds later, a smooth voice with a Spanish accent answered.

"Hold on, Maverick," the Joker said, "I'm setting up a conference call."

"Yeah, sure thing, boss," Carlos Maverick replied.

The Joker started dialling another number, and a different, small voice answered this time.

"H-hello?" it stuttered.

"Stay on the line, Schiff," the Joker said, then dialled a third phone number.

"… Yes?" an extremely weak-sounding voice with a Chinese accent answered.

"Hold," the Joker commanded.

"Okay, boss…." Ksun Soo replied.

The Joker dialled the fourth phone number now, and a very gruff voice answered.

"Don't go anywhere, Grainger," the Joker told the man named Peter on the other end.

"Will do, boss," Grainger replied emotionlessly.

The Joker was now dialling the second-last phone number. A crazed voice with a Russian accent answered on the other end.

"Yeah, boss?! I've been expecting you, boss -"

"Shut up, Popovich," the Joker growled, cutting Henry Popovich off.

"Of course, boss! Whatever you say, boss! I'll be quiet now, boss! …" the voice continued to tatter.

"And the scary thing is," the Joker said, turning to Kitty Liz as he dialled the last phone number, "he doesn't even do drugs."

Kitty Liz giggled, but then the Joker's remaining henchman answered.

"Alright, gentlemen!" the Joker called cheerfully to all six of his listeners, without even bothering to address Michael Coons. "I am here with Shadow, and we are going to discuss today's plan - which just happens to be a bank robbery!"

The Joker's announcement was followed by excited outbursts of approval from his henchmen. The Joker silenced them, then looked at Kitty Liz, urging her to explain her plan.

"The bank is called Riches, and it's on the corner of Bonnie Avenue and Clyde Street," Kitty Liz began.

"Hey, I've heard of that place!" Popovich burst out. "People say that it's a total dump, boss! Can't we find somewhere better to rob???"

"Popovich?" the Joker said.

"Boss?" the man asked in response.

"Shut up," the Joker answered.

"Yes, boss," Popovich said, then fell silent.

"Okay, I've decided that we're going to enter the building at exactly three o'clock, the bank's closing time," the Joker continued on Kitty Liz's behalf.

"Why closing time?" Kitty Liz asked, surprised.

"Because the customers will be gone, and we'll only have to deal with the manager and employees."

"Aw, where's the fun in THAT?" came Maverick's disappointed voice. "It's the terrified customers that provide the main entertainment, boss!"

"Yeah!" Popovich cried out in agreement.

"Be quite, both of you," the Joker said menacingly. "I do agree with you, of course, but I want to keep this operation on the down low. This is Shadow's first public appearance, and who knows what can go wrong."

"Then DON'T BRING HER, boss!" Popovich drawled, as if stating the obvious.

"This subject is closed, Popovich. Now shut up or I'll find you and shove a grenade down your throat."

"Yes, boss…." Popovich mumbled, sounding downcast.

"I'm afraid that that's just about as far as my expertise goes on this bank, Shadow," the Joker told Kitty Liz.

"That's fine," she said, "I can take it from here. We'll need to get a hold of the manager, Jerry Collinsworth, because he's the only one who knows the combination to the group of vaults that we are interested in. Oh, somebody will also need to disconnect the electrical supply and the landline to the building, to disable the phones and alarms…. And… there's also the vault door.… You see, it requires a second combination that is known only to my parents… the vault is registered under their names. What I'm trying to say is that I don't know the combination and neither does the manager… but that shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"Of course not. Schiff will take care of the landline, electrical supply, and get the vault door open. You hear that, Schiff?" the Joker called, causing Thomas Schiff to let out a whimpering sound at the other end. "You'll want to bring your tool case."

"Yes-s s-sir," Schiff replied timidly.

"Great!" Kitty Liz exclaimed enthusiastically. "Schiff will disconnect the landline and the power supply first, and then the rest of us will do our thing. We'll need to round up the manager and the employees - there should be five or six of them. Get them into the lobby, and make sure that they don't do anything stupid. I propose that Mr. J and myself will go after Mr. Collinsworth, while the rest of you round up the workers. Once they're all in the main lobby, we'll have one or two people stand guard while the rest of us come to the vault along with Mr. Collinsworth. You'll all help carry the money."

"How much are we taking… ma'am?" Popovich asked, making Kitty Liz smile because it was she who was finally being addressed.

"As much as will fit into the Chevy, or until the arrival of the police will force us out."

Popovich started laughing at the other end.

"I hope that you've found a place to hide everything that's already in the car, mademoiselle, or else we won't be stealing nothing at all!"

"That's been taken care of, thank you very much," Kitty Liz assured him, flashing a smile at the Joker. She noticed, however, that he was staring into space with an uncertain expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

The Joker put his thumb over the microphone of his phone, and said to Kitty Liz

"It's Popovich. He has a tendency to screw up every operation he's ever been on. It's probably because of his limitless amounts of energy and inability to sit still. Other than Schiff, he's the quietest person I know, but once he gets excited, like now, he just doesn't stop."

"I think I know what we can do with him. Let me talk to the boys."

"This better be good," the Joker warned her jokingly, and took his thumb off the microphone.

"I just remembered something!" Kitty Liz piped up.

"What's that, missus?" Popovich demanded.

"There's another job that needs to be done. It's very important, and very tricky. It can be entrusted only to the most trustworthy of you fine men. Any volunteers?"

"Oh, me, madam! Pick me, mistress!" Popovich cried out immediately.

Kitty Liz let a few dramatic moments pass as she stifled her laugher, then asked

"Are you sure that you'll manage?"

"Of course! Hasn't the boss mentioned that I'm his most capable henchman???"

The Joker groaned and buried his face in his hands, shaking his head.

"No, sorry, I don't believe that he's got around to it yet," Kitty Liz told Popovich, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, alright…." he replied, sounding genuinely disappointed.

"But that doesn't matter because you've got the job!" Kitty Liz exclaimed.

"Oh thank you, miss! Thank you! So… what do I do?"

"You, my most loveable Henry… will get to stay in the car and listen to the police radio. If they mention Riches, you'll let everyone know, and we'll be on our way!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Popovich cried out enthusiastically, but then realization must've hit and his enthusiasm dropped immediately.

"No, wait…." he began, but the Joker cut him off.

"Alright, does everyone know what they're doing?" the Joker yelled into his cell phone. "Just to let you know, Shadow and I will already be waiting parked across from the bank at 2:30. Schiff, you must arrive at around 15 before three to do whatever it is that you have to do. The rest of you have to be there a few minutes later. Remain inconspicuous until I give you the word. Once Schiff is done, we will enter the bank, except for Popovich, who will take his post inside my police car. Once inside, Kitty Liz and I will go after Collinsworth. Maverick, Schiff, Grainger and Soo will go after the workers. Bring them back to the lobby. Once we have everyone, Grainger and Soo will remain to watch the hostages while the rest of us bring Mr. Jerry to the vault and let him open it. Then we'll take the money and bring it back to the Chevrolet. Come armed, and bring walkies. Oh, and Schiff - bring Shadow's stuff."

"Yes, b-boss," Schiff stuttered on the other end.

"Everyone good now?" the Joker demanded.

"Um, boss?" came the rather annoyed voice of Michael Coons.

When the Joker didn't answer, Coons continued.

"You didn't say what I am supposed to -"

"Tag along with Schiff, Coons," the Joker replied in an unfriendly fashion.

There was a strained silence.

"Whatever you say, boss," Coons said coldly.

"Alright, gentlemen!" the Joker exclaimed. "I'll see you all in a matter of hours! Ta!" And with that he snapped his cell phone shut, and turned to Kitty Liz. "Come on - we still need to get everything out of the car."

They got up and returned to the Chevy standing in the shadows of the far corner of the cave. They began unpacking with the trunk. After Kitty Liz had pulled both duffel bags out, the Joker went ahead and pulled out Kitty Liz's scooter. Kitty Liz patted it lovingly, then rolled it out of the way. Then they moved on to the back seat. They pulled out all of the boxes and bags that were on top of the Joker's bicycle, and then the Joker pulled out the bike, too. They removed the remaining boxes and bags from the car, except for the duffel bag that was filled with more duffel bags.

"We'll need those for the money," the Joker explained.

They've organized everything that they've removed into a nice pile, then the Joker checked his pocket watch.

"It's 12 P.M." he said out loud.

"How about lunch?" Kitty Liz asked.

"Sounds good - we have plenty of time to waste."

"Cherry pie?"

"Sure. Why not."

Kitty Liz fetched a whole cherry pie, two forks, and more water from her duffel bag, and carried it back to the cave's entrance. She sat down beside the Joker, unpackaged the pie, and put it down between them. She gave the Joker a fork and a water bottle, and they dug into their meal.

"So… it took you all night to decide that we'll attack the bank at closing time?" Kitty Liz inquired with a chuckle as she chewed. The Joker glared at her.

"No, it didn't. The other reason that I didn't sleep was because I wasn't tired."

"Really? Do you ever get tired because, as far as I know, you've barely slept at all since Wednesday."

"Exactly. As far as you know."

Kitty Liz opened her mouth to ask another question, but at that moment the Joker gave her a look that told her there and then that the subject was closed. Feeling downcast, Kitty Liz was now forced to eat in silence.

"How long would it take to reach the bank from here?" the Joker asked when they were about half-way through their pie.

"Uhh…" Kitty Liz began uncertainly, "… a half-hour, maybe?"

"Alright," the Joker replied, and they continued eating in silence.

By the time they have finished their meal, it was thirty after.

"There's nothing more to do now but wait," the Joker observed with a bored sigh. Clearly, having nothing to do was not something that the Joker enjoyed at all. "I don't know about you, but I'll go listen to the police radio in my car," he said. "I don't know - I might actually hear something entertaining."

"I'll go take a walk along the beach," Kitty Liz said. "If it's fine by you, of course."

"Yeah, go ahead," the Joker said with a wave of his hand. "Just make sure that you aren't seen, and be back in time."

"Of course," Kitty Liz replied with a smile, and bounded out of the cave.

As she rounded the corner, she was hit flat in the face by a gust of warm, fresh, sweet-smelling wind. The wind was blowing fluffy white clouds across the sky above Kitty Liz's head, and everything around her looked and felt like spring. Laughing and spinning around, she ran down the beach, suddenly feeling joyful and energetic. The pebbled shoreline stretched out for miles in front of her and, knowing that she had plenty of time on her hands, Kitty Liz burst into a vigorous sprint. She ran into the wind, arms outstretched, her skirt flapping loosely around her hips, until she could run no longer. Then she slowed to a walk, and walked until she was finally too tired to. She estimated that about a half-hour must've passed and, knowing that she had about one more hour left to waste, she decided to take some time to think and reflect.

After attempting to skip some pebbles across the churning waves, Kitty Liz settled down at the water's edge. She absent-mindedly threw rocks and pebbles into the water for some time, but finally fell into a daze watching the dancing ripples in front of her. Sitting there, Kitty Liz was surprised to realize that she was actually happy.

She must have dozed off, what with the happy thoughts and the soothing rhythmic sound of the waves breaking against the shoreline. Suddenly snapping back to reality, Kitty Liz panicked. She had no idea how long she has spent sitting there - whether it was ten minutes… or an hour. She jumped up and sprinted back towards the cave. By the time she had reached the entrance, she was breathing heavily and dragging her feet, sweat trickling down her forehead. She stepped onto the metal floor, and found herself face-to-face with the Joker. He was standing there with his arms crossed, an expression of disapproval on his face. Kitty Liz stumbled and he grabbed her by the arm to keep her from falling over.

"You're late," he stated, his voice cold.

"What time is it?" Kitty Liz gasped. The Joker flipped out his pocket watch and checked.

"2:03," he replied, now having trouble keeping his face straight.

"Oh… well -" Kitty Liz began, but the Joker interrupted her with a bout of laughter. He let go of her arm and walked away, shaking his head.

"You're terrible, Mr. J! Did you know that? Just terrible!" Kitty Liz called after him with a relieved smile.

"You should've stayed and listened to the police radio with me!" he called back.

"Why, did something interesting happen?"

"Oh, yes - armed robbery at a jewellery store. The police had the whole place surrounded, but the robbers were putting up a fight. Can you guess who came to the rescue??"

"No way - Batman?"

"Oh, yes! The cops, poor idiots, didn't know who to shoot at. Quite a mess there was. Too bad that you missed it."

"If we don't hurry up, Mr. J, we're going to miss our own robbery!"

"Says the one who was late."

"Three minutes!"

"Yeah, yeah. Get in the car and drive."

Not wasting any time, Kitty Liz got behind the wheel and they pulled out of the cave and drove back to the dock. Kitty Liz had only a slight idea of where the bank was from this part of the city, but she knew the way to Wayne Avenue, and the way to the bank from there. She drove past the wrecked commercial van, up the drive, and onto the riverside road.

The ride turned out to be somewhat longer than expected. About 35 minutes later, Kitty Liz brought the car to a stop across from a small, brown, grubby-looking building with a sign above its main entrance that was supposed to say 'Riches'; however, the 'R' had fallen off.

"This is it?? 'Iches'?" the Joker demanded.

"Yeah," Kitty Liz replied, and turned off the car.

"Lovely…." the Joker remarked bitterly.

They sat waiting, seeing nobody but a single customer leaving the building, until the first of the henchmen arrived. They came in a tiny two-door white Toyota Corolla, and parked right in front of the Joker's Chevy.

"Schiff," the Joker stated, checking his pocket watch. "Right on time." He glanced at Kitty Liz with a grin, and the latter sighed in annoyance.

Schiff and Coons exited the car, and the Joker and Kitty Liz climbed out to meet them. Schiff was carrying a tool case, and had a cloth-bound bundle clamped under his arm.

"H-hi, boss, ma'am," he said, addressing the Joker and Kitty Liz respectively.

"Good job, Schiff. I that see you've got Shadow's things. Excellent!" the Joker exclaimed, taking Schiff's bundle from him. He unrolled it on the hood of the Chevrolet, and Kitty Liz peered at its contents excitedly.

"Alright: guns, knives, earrings, and tie - everything in working order, I presume?" the Joker asked, going through the things inside the pack.

"Yes-s, s-sir."

"Good boy."

"Oh no, Mr. J…." Kitty Liz mumbled suddenly, remembering something.

"What?" the Joker inquired.

"We should've asked somebody to bring an extra watch for me," Kitty Liz sighed.

"W-well… I have a w-watch, s-sir," Schiff told the Joker, holding out his wrist. The Joker, however, was looking intently at the skinny wrist of Michael Coons, where a great silver Rolex shone importantly.

"Where'd you get that watch, Coons?" the Joker asked.

"Where do you think, boss?" Coons replied, a note of sarcasm in his voice.

"Well, give it here," the Joker said.

"But boss, I don't understand. Schiff -" Coons began, sounding indignant. But it was too late - the Joker grabbed a hold of his arm, and had the watch off before Coons could even start to struggle.

"Will this do?" the Joker asked, turning to Kitty Liz. Kitty Liz stuttered for an answer, so the Joker turned back to his goons. "Don't you have work to do?" he asked. Coons and Schiff mumbled something, and were about to set off when Schiff suddenly stopped indecisively. He's been studying the electrical and telecommunications lines that stretched from post to post on the other side of the street, with a few cables branching off to connect to the roof of the bank. After studying the rooftop for a few seconds, he turned to Kitty Liz and asked

"Um, m-ma'am, do you hap-pen to kn-know if there's a f-fire es-cape that l-leads to the roof-f from the outside?"

"Try out back," Kitty Liz replied, remembering seeing an old rusty ladder attached to the back wall once.

"Th-thanks, ma'am."

"Radio us when you're done," the Joker instructed, and Coons and Schiff went on their way.

After they've rounded the far corner of the bank and disappeared from view, the Joker brought his attention back to the watch that he's just nipped from Michael Coons. Using a knife that he fetched from his pocket, he removed both halves of the watch's silvery strap and tossed them to the ground.

"What're you doing?" Kitty Liz demanded, confused.

"Hold out your wrist," the Joker commanded. Kitty Liz obeyed and held out her left arm. The Joker reached into one of his pockets again and, to Kitty Liz's repeated surprise, pulled out a needle and thread. And then, to Kitty Liz's continued surprise, the Joker proceeded to sew the watch's dial to the top of her sleeve.

"Better?" he asked, smiling.

"Much," Kitty Liz replied with a grin, staring at her shiny new watch.

"Now to reunite you with your… erm… 'effects,' should we call them?"

"Certainly," Kitty Liz replied, feeling quite excited.

All of Kitty Liz's knives and guns now had 'Shadow' written on their handles in smooth, white writing. Looking pleased to see them again, Kitty Liz returned her weapons to their appropriate sheaths and holders. Then she picked up her silky white tie and fastened it around her neck. Lastly, she picked up the purple earrings and put them on.

"What say you we go and try out your new and improved tie phone?" the Joker asked, excitement in his voice.

"That'd be nice, of course," Kitty Liz replied.

"Get into the Chevy," the Joker instructed.

Kitty Liz climbed into the driver's seat, while the Joker climbed into the Corolla in front. Through the back window, she watched him pull out his cell phone, and a few seconds later, her tie started to vibrate around her neck, making her jump.

"What a strange sensation…." she remarked to herself. Then, pretending that she had to act inconspicuous, she went to adjust her tie, and pressed the topmost button on its underside. "Mr. J?" she asked tentatively.

"It works!" roared the Joker on the other end. His voice was coming from the Jessica Scott earrings that Kitty Liz now wore. It was small and oddly muted, and it had to be, for it was meant for Kitty Liz's ears only.

"This is amazing!" Kitty Liz exclaimed. "The tie works great, and so do the earrings!"

"Alright, now you try calling me," the Joker said and the line went dead.

Kitty Liz pressed the second button from the top to end the call, then pressed the topmost button again. She immediately heard the sound of a dialling phone number, and then a long tone. Then, the Joker picked up.

"Everything's working smoothly on this end!" he exclaimed.

"Same here!" Kitty Liz replied.

"Great," the Joker said, and hung up. Kitty Liz hung up, too, and got out of the car.

The Joker was walking towards her, pulling a couple of walkie-talkies out of his pocket. He turned them on, attached one of them to his pants, and passed the other to Kitty Liz.

"Here, you'll need this," he said, and Kitty Liz took it and attached it to her belt. "Excited?" he asked, a grin suddenly appearing on his face.

"Very," Kitty Liz answered, grinning back.

"You don't look a bit nervous, even though we've been standing out in the open for the last ten minutes!"

"This is a dead neighbourhood. It used to be prosperous in the days of my grandmother, but it's all but abandoned now," Kitty Liz replied with a frown.

"What DID your grandmother use to do? To gain such a fortune?"

"The Francis family actually ran a business here. A line of high-class jewellery stores. But the neighbourhood went to waste, and when the time came for us to inherit the business, my parents politely declined the offer. My grandmother was forced to sell everything. She was heartbroken, of course, but she knew that the business had gone to waste along with the neighbourhood. No use attempting to sell things which were stolen more often, am I right?"

"Certainly. Mr. Collinsworth is about to learn a similar lesson."

Kitty Liz smiled, and then both she and the Joker submerged into silence. Suddenly, an old dark-blue van came swerving round the corner of Bonnie Avenue, tires screeching. Kitty Liz and the Joker fixed the van with an untrustworthy stare, but their fears turned out to be without cause - sitting behind the wheel of the van was Carlos Maverick, and in the seat beside him was Henry Popovich, smiling and talking excitedly. In the seats behind them sat Ksun Soo and Peter Grainger. They parked the van in front of the Corolla, and Kitty Liz and the Joker strolled over to see them.

"Howdy," greeted the Joker after swinging open the van's side door. Four pairs of eyes turned to look at him expectantly.

"You ready?" the Joker inquired, leaning into the van and raising his eyebrows. His men held up a walkie-talkie and an automatic each.

"We're just waiting for Schiff to finish up his business now," the Joker continued, smiling an impatient little smile.

Suddenly, all of their radios crackled to life.

"We're all set here, b-boss," came Thomas Schiff's stammering voice. Kitty Liz and the Joker turned away from the van and saw Coons and Schiff standing beside the left wall of the bank. Schiff gave them a little wave of acknowledgement. "I f-found a c-control p-panel up-p on the roof," he continued into his radio, "and w-was able to d-disable the alar-rms. The l-landlines ins-side the buil-ding are al-lso dead-d."

"Good boy, Schiff!" the Joker called into his radio, waving at the pair across the street. "Meet us at the door, we're a-coming!" The Joker put his radio away, and a broad smile crept across his lips. He checked his pocket watch, which said a minute to three, then leaned back into the van and drawled "It's time, boys," the smile never leaving his lips. He then stepped away from the van, and the men got out, one by one, hiding their guns behind their jackets. "Popovich -" the Joker began.

"Yeah, boss???" Popovich squealed, interrupting him.

The Joker glared. "Follow Shadow to my car. Shadow, bring the duffel bags."

"Yes, Mr. J," Kitty Liz replied, and led Popovich to the Chevrolet. She turned on the police radio for him, then sat him down into the driver's seat. "Listen, and let us know if anybody's coming," she instructed. Then she grabbed the bag of duffel bags from the back seat, and hurried after the five men marching forcefully across the street.


	8. Chapter 8

_The Joker's Shadow_

Jerry Collinsworth sat at his desk, organizing all of today's paperwork into respective drawers and cabinets. He was in a good mood; work was almost over and pretty soon he would be picking up his seven-year-old granddaughter from ballet practice. He had promised to go with her to the movies later this afternoon, and was looking forward to it a lot. Any one-on-one time with his granddaughter was always lovely. He checked the clock that stood on his desk; it showed a minute to three. Time to close up. He was about to get up and proceed to lock the main door himself, but spotted Sabrina, a clerk, and also his daughter, strolling around with a clipboard in her hands.

"May you please go lock the door, Sabrina?" he called to her.

"Certainly, dad," she replied with a smile, and proceeded towards the main entrance.

* * *

Coons and Schiff joined the rest of the group by the front door. By that time everybody had their guns out and ready, and without slowing down or changing their pace in the slightest of ways, they made their way inside. The Joker came first, kicking the heavy wooden door open with his foot, followed by Kitty Liz, and then the rest of the Joker's men. Their very first sight was the frightened face of a clerk that Kitty Liz recognized to be Sabrina; she stood only a few feet away. Screaming, the clerk made a run for it.

"Somebody get her!" Kitty Liz yelled to the goons behind her. Ksun Soo, standing in Kitty Liz's wake, burst into pursuit, with much uncharacteristic speed and enthusiasm.

"Huh," Kitty Liz remarked.

"Yeah," the Joker said, turning around, "he's full of surprises."

"The rest of you," Kitty Liz shouted, addressing the men behind her again, "sweep the place and get the rest of the employees! Mr. J and myself will go after the manager." With that, Kitty Liz dropped the duffel bag slung across her shoulder to the floor, and she and the Joker proceeded out of the lobby and into the main section of the bank. Desks greeted them on either side, but the desk that Kitty Liz was interested in was at the far end of the elongated room. The manager's desk stood in the very corner, and in an attempt to isolate himself more from the rest of the room, he had set up a screen to serve as a sort of pseudo-wall between himself and the desk beside him. Kitty Liz led the Joker confidently around the side of the screen, and they came to a stop before an elderly man turned completely around in his seat, an expression of horror frozen on his face.

"YOU," he said in a low, shuddering voice. He held a phone receiver in one of his hands, while his other hand was frozen on the number pad of the telephone's base.

"Sorry, Mr. Collinsworth," the Joker said while at the same time motioning to Kitty Liz with his head, "the operator is out. Permanently." Kitty Liz, in the meantime, had walked around to the back of the manager's chair, and pressed the barrel of her gun to his spine.

"Get up," she commanded. The manager did what he was told. "Walk," Kitty Liz commanded again, and pushed the manager out from behind the screen and back across the room, following the Joker. Kitty Liz noticed that the manager had a certain waver in his step, as if though he was considering doing something questionable. Finally, the manager took a shuddering breath and spoke.

"You're a fool…" he called to the Joker in a hoarse whisper, then, louder, "You're all fools!"

The Joker continued to walk, ignoring him.

"Nobody uses this place anymore!" the manager continued. "Nobody except…" and then realization hit him, hit him so hard that he even paused momentarily in his walk. "WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE THAT POOR FAMILY ALONE!?" The man was now shouting. "First you kill their daughter! And now!? THIS!?" After receiving no response from the Joker, the manager threw a glance back at Kitty Liz, but she did a good job to conceal her amusement behind an emotionless mask. "Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God…." the man broke down, giving up. "Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God…."

They have reached the lobby by that time. Inside, four of the five employees were kneeling with their hands behind their heads, facing the wall. Peter Grainger was dragging the last one, whom Kitty Liz recognized to be Angie, in by her hair. The manager looked on, his horror increasing two-fold.

"That's all of them, boss," Grainger told the Joker as he forced Angie to get into position beside the wall.

"You've checked everywhere?" the Joker verified.

"Yeah."

"Alright. Grainger and Soo - stay here and keep a close eye on them," the Joker instructed, sweeping over the hostages with his hand. "The rest of you - come with me. Coons, grab the duffel bags." The Joker now turned to the manager. "Bring us to the Francis vault," he said simply. The manager wavered, and Kitty Liz dug the barrel of her gun further into his back. "We haven't got all day," the Joker threatened.

"Alright, alright!" the manager finally succumbed, not taking his eyes off of the hostages. "But please… don't hurt them… one of them is my daughter… the one with the brown hair.…"

The manager then proceeded to lead the group back through the main room and up to an inconspicuous-looking door which was located, unsurprisingly-enough, right beside his makeshift 'office.' He hesitated for a moment, then took a key that that was hung around his neck and opened the door. Beyond that came a hallway with a whole series of doors, but for these the authorization was electronic. The manager led them four doors down the hallway, and came to a stop before door number five. He stared at the keypad with a look of despair on his face, then turned around to look at the Joker instead.

"Only the owners of the vaults beyond know the codes to these doors…" he began hopefully.

"Nice bluff there, grandpa," the Joker said, his facial expression un-amused. "Now open the door."

"I'm not… bluffing…" the manager tried again.

"This is getting RIDICULOUS!" suddenly yelled Michael Coons. He made his way from the back of the group towards Kitty Liz. "Amateur," he hissed and, grabbing her by the arm, pulled her out of the way so that he was now the one dealing with the manager. Using the handle of the pistol that he was holding in his hand, he whipped the man between the shoulder blades, causing him to fall to his knees with a yelp of pain. "Now open it, Mr. Collinsworth. I am not going to be patient with you."

"Please," the manager begged, but he was already typing in the combination, "just don't hurt the hostages…."

"Good man, Mr. Collinsworth," Coons remarked as the door swung open smoothly before them. Coons forced the manager back onto his feet and shoved him through, with everybody else following. They were now in another room, and from here three more reinforced doors led to separate vaults.

"Which one is it, Jerry-boy?" Coons asked, halting the manager in the middle of the room. The manager pointed a shaking finger at the door on their left. Then he burst into desperate sobs and turned around to face the Joker, crying out

"I don't know the combination…. I swear…. I don't know the combination…. I'm being honest this time… please… PLEASE don't hurt the hostages…!"

The Joker threw Kitty Liz a questioning look, and Kitty Liz nodded to confirm that this time the manager was telling the truth.

"Alright, Coons," the Joker said, taking control of the situation, "lead him aside. Schiff, get that door open."

Michael Coons led the manager out of the center of the room and went to stand against the wall beside Kitty Liz. Schiff, meanwhile, had brought his tool case over to the heavy metal door and was getting himself busy with a large battery-powered drill. The Joker stood over him, supervising, while Maverick looked on curiously. Kitty Liz decided to take the moment to find out what Coons' problem was.

"You know, Michael," she began, "I have the feeling that you don't like me very much."

"Of course I don't," Coons replied immediately with a slight smile; then, after a small pause, "Why should I? The only reason you're here is to get in my way, to make me jealous. The boss might not realize this, but I see right through him." Coons was speaking softly, out of the Joker's earshot.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kitty Liz demanded.

"Keep it down, princess," Coons warned her, throwing a fearful look at the Joker. "And, as I was saying, you're only here as part of the boss's revenge on me. That was why he broke me out of the Asylum - so he could torment me, show me how easily I can be replaced. He wants to get rid of me, no doubt, but he can't."

"What is this revenge that you're talking about?" Kitty Liz asked, still refusing to keep her volume down.

"Sh!" Coons hissed, throwing another frightened look at the Joker. Then he turned back to Kitty Liz, laughing quietly. "Oh, didn't he tell you?" he asked. "Didn't he tell you how I was his right hand man… his second-in-command… his first YOU? But then I became too strong - a threat to his authority. He didn't know what to do with me!" Coons continued laughing while Kitty Liz look sceptical.

"So why didn't he just kill you?" she asked.

"Because that would've been showing him admitting his weakness!" Coons half-whispered, half-laughed. "It would've shown the others that I really HAVE been a threat, that I have overpowered the boss. He couldn't afford to do that! It was driving him insane, I could see it. But then the arrests came and he was helpless to do anything for a while. But then along came the fearless attorney and now he's suddenly determined to degrade me to Popovich's level. Making me do the dirty jobs, the dangerous ones, pretending that I don't exist, forcing me to follow that scum Thomas Schiff around like a dog! Oh, and look at that! Is that not MY watch that you now have on your wrist?!" Coons pointed at the Rolex on Kitty Liz's arm, his eyebrows raised, a stupid sarcastic little smile curving his lips. Kitty Liz looked back at him with an expression of disgusted disbelief on her face.

"Think whatever you want, Coons," she said, "but if I didn't know you better, I'd say that you were jealous." And, as the color drained out of Coons' enraged face, Kitty Liz left his side and went to stand beside the Joker instead.

There was a heavy metallic clunk as Thomas Schiff grabbed the vault door by the handle and pushed it up and away from himself. The door wobbled uncertainly for a few seconds, then, with a final push from Schiff, it slipped clear of its hinges and tumbled thunderously into the interior of the vault. Broken wires sparked and crackled furiously for a few seconds and the lights inside the room flashed convulsively. Finally the electrical disturbance ceased and the inside of the vault became flooded with light. Rows of shelves stood against the walls and on those shelves lay piles of cash. Schiff put his tools away, clearly looking proud of his accomplishment, while the room rang with an excited silence. Kitty Liz turned to the Joker with a big smile on her face, and then proceeded breathlessly towards the gaping doorway. But the Joker suddenly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.

"That is not our job," he said in response to the surprised look she was giving him. Then he turned towards Coons and called, "You've got the duffel bags, and the money sure ain't going to pack itself. Let Shadow here keep an eye on old Jerry while you're helping out Carlos and Mr. Schiff." Coons threw both the Joker and Kitty Liz a look of pure loathing and strode away fuming into the open vault. As he began packing the money along with Maverick and Schiff, Kitty Liz took the manager under her own surveillance.

About fifteen minutes and nine full duffel bags later, Maverick, Coons, and Schiff came backing out of the vault, dragging three duffel bags each along with them.

"That's it? That's all you've brought?" Coons asked the Joker indignantly, dropping the duffel bag straps in his hand to the ground and turning around.

"There is a limited amount of space inside my car," the Joker growled, barely opening his mouth as he did so.

"But there's at least a few dozen more million in there!" Coons exclaimed, gesticulating madly towards the open vault and the money still within.

"What time is it?" the Joker asked, turning to Kitty Liz.

"Three thirty," Kitty Liz replied, checking her watch and making Coons turn a curious shade of violet.

"We're wasting time," the Joker then said. "You three -" he pointed at Maverick, Schiff, and Coons "- if you want some extra money, feel free to grab it from the vault. But if you're not out of there within the next two minutes, you're staying there for good."

Maverick, Coons, and Schiff exchanged a quick, excited glance and ran back into the vault. There, with much vigour and zest, they began grabbing the wads of bills and stuffing them into their pockets, down their shirts, and pretty much anywhere else where they could be contained. Less than two minutes later, they were out of the vault, panting and ready to go.

"Alright," the Joker said, smiling the faintest bit at the sight of his flushed and sweaty henchmen. He proceeded to pick up two of the duffel bags and so did Maverick, Coons, and Schiff. Only one duffel bag remained. "Shadow, get the last one and bring grandpa there along," the Joker told Kitty Liz. She nodded, threw the duffel bag over her shoulder, gave the manager a prod in the back, and they were on their way, with the Joker in the lead and Kitty Liz bringing up the rear.

They walked back down the hallway, through the main, elongated room of the bank, and into the lobby where Grainger and Soo were awaiting them apprehensively. Their apprehension ceased and was replaced instead by excitement as the Joker and the rest of his men came into view carrying full duffel bags.

"What's our share, boss?" Grainger asked matter-of-factly as the Joker and his henchmen came to a stop inside the lobby.

"One duffel bag," the Joker replied, freeing his left shoulder as he let the bag fall to the floor. "There's a few millions in there, so I'm sure that everybody will be happy with their share."

Kitty Liz, standing a little further away from the group and still pointing her gun at the manager, suddenly got the strange and most uncomfortable feeling that somebody was giving her a piercing stare. She looked around for the culprit and, to her surprise, momentarily locked eyes with Sabrina, who immediately looked away. Sabrina's face was facing the wall, shrouded by a mass of thick, wavy hair, but she was certainly staring at Kitty Liz moments earlier. Suspicious, Kitty Liz gave Sabrina a more careful look and realized, with a wave of fury, that Sabrina had only one hand behind her head and that her other hand was hidden within her hair. What was worse, and at that moment Kitty Liz's stomach seemed to drop, was that there was something small, silver, and shiny in Sabrina's hand. It only took one more moment of strained listening to realize that Sabrina was whispering and whispering into the object, the realization of which threw Kitty Liz into a panic.

"Soo!" she cried shrilly, waving her arms, addressing the man who stood closest to Sabrina, completely oblivious to the actions of the hostages whom he was supposed to be watching with Grainger.

Soo jumped and turned around with a startled expression on his face. There were a few seconds of commotion as people gasped, waved their arms, and shouted orders at each other. The confusion was all brought to a stop as, in a swift and fluid motion, Coons pulled his pistol out from underneath his brown leather jacket and delivered a single, fatal shot to Sabrina's head. Her body toppled over limply, her right arm outstretched and her cell phone lying in her palm, plain for the world to see. A ringing silence followed and only the manager moved, his body raked with dry and violent sobs.

The silence was broken as seven radios all together spoke with the same voice.

"Boss!" the radios crackled. "The police are on their way! … Boss?"

"Let's go," the Joker said through gritted teeth and made his way towards the main door. Grainger picked up the duffel bag of the henchmen's share and hurried after him, with Soo at his heel. The rest of the henchmen followed, carrying their duffel bags. Kitty Liz was the last to go. She pushed the manager away from herself forcefully and proceeded out of the building, feeling herself on the verge of being sick. Behind her, the manager pulled his dead daughter into his arms and rocked her back and forth, his sobs and wails overpowering even the thunderous beating of Kitty Liz's heart.

As she stepped outside she was momentarily blinded by the sunlight that was now flooding the parking lot in front the bank. The weather had changed dramatically over the past thirty minutes; the clouds have cleared and the sun was sending down beams of light and warmth. Once she had regained the use of her eyes, Kitty Liz hurried across to where the Joker and his henchmen were crowding the Joker's car. Schiff, Maverick, and Coons were passing the Joker their duffel bags and he was packing them away inside the trunk and into the back seat. Popovich stood beside them, blabbering uncontrollably.

"What else did headquarters say?" Kitty Liz heard the Joker ask as she ran up.

"Not much at all, boss," Popovich replied. "Nothing that they didn't already know, boss. Our presumed identities, vehicles, and weapons, boss. Everything is an assumption, boss. Whoever made the call certainly didn't manage to give them all that much information, boss."

Kitty Liz looked at the ground darkly while Popovich continued chattering elatedly.

"Shadow, give me your bag," came the Joker's voice, bringing Kitty Liz back to reality. She passed him her duffel bag and he threw it into the back seat. Finally, he slammed the car door and then the trunk shut and turned to address his henchmen.

"Since we have three cars, we'll split up. Shadow and I will go up Clyde Street while the rest of you split up on Bonnie Avenue. I don't care which way you go, just make sure that you don't get caught. And if you do, you better not say anything or I'll find you and kill you. Understood?"

His henchmen looked as if they understood perfectly well.

"GET ON WITH IT THEN!" the Joker yelled and, within less than a moment, his henchmen have gone.

"Should I be driving again?" Kitty Liz asked once they were alone.

"Yes," the Joker replied. "Take us back to the cave."

* * *

The flames danced and cast fleeting shadows onto the glistening metal walls of the cave. The smoke wafted lazily upwards, crept along the ceiling, and was blown into the darkness outside, where the pouring rain beat down on the river with a deafening roar. Kitty Liz and the Joker sat in front of the fire, eating a dinner of ramen noodles and gazing with tired eyes at the crumbling coals. Sometimes a gust of wind would blow a wall of rain into the cave, covering the pair and the fire on the floor in front of them with a spray of icy water. At those moments the Joker would grumble something incoherent and pull his coat tighter around him; Kitty Liz would poke at the fire to get it going again. They soon finished their meal but continued staring at the flames without speaking a word. Finally, Kitty Liz decided to break the silence.

"Mr. J… how did you get those scars?"

The Joker first jumped at the question, but when he looked up from the fire there was a smile on his face so broad that Kitty Liz feared it would rip his cheeks open again. "I've been waiting for you to ask that question. The story is really… exciting, you see."

Kitty Liz was at once significantly more alert. "Tell me."

The Joker shifted himself on the ground until he was sitting in front of Kitty Liz and staring her blank in the face. The smile never left his lips. "I was walking along the streets one night. It was a night much like tonight - the wind and the rain made it near impossible to see. I was just walking, minding my own business, when a masked man comes runnin' out of nowhere, pushes me aside, and just keeps runnin'. And I see three cops ahead, all runnin' after him. And I think 'They'll never catch him - he's too fast.'So I think that I can catch him for the cops, y'know, before he gets away. So I run after him, and I catch him, and I'm holdin' him for the cops. And they catch up and just start shootin' at us. And I yell at them to stop, that I'm not a criminal. Then they shoot me, right in the mouth. It's a good thing that they shot at me from the side, because the bullet just went through my cheeks. Now the guy in my arms is dead and I ain't sure if the blood I'm drenched in is his or mine, but they just keep shootin'. So I BOLT. And the last thing I hear is 'Get back here, joker!' Now ain't that funny? Ain't it just?"

Kitty Liz's reaction proved to be less than satisfactory. She looked at the Joker with disappointment in her eyes, then got up and walked away altogether. She came to a stop in front of the Chevrolet parked behind them, the Joker watching her with an expression of confused innocence on his face.

"Why are you lying to me?" she finally asked, leaning against the side of the car with her arms crossed.

"LYING!?" the Joker exclaimed with a forced laugh. He got up and skipped over so that he stood in front of her, his hands behind his back, leaning into her face. "Who said anything about LYING?"

"A gunshot wound would've never given you scars like that," Kitty Liz hissed, getting angry that the Joker was actually trying to defend himself. He glared at her for a second, then turned on his heel and began to walk away. "I poured my heart out to you, Mr. J, on the tenth floor of the building on Wayne's Avenue," Kitty Liz called after him. "Or do you not remember that?"

"Eh, whatever," the Joker replied. He had made his way around to the other side of the car and was now getting into the driver's seat. He slammed the car door behind him.

"Very mature," Kitty Liz muttered to herself. She turned back towards the entrance of the cave and watched as her fire was extinguished by a consecutive wall of rain. She sighed and proceeded towards it, not particularly knowing where she was going. She did not get very far, however, as a sound behind her made her cringe and stop. It was the Joker. He had rolled down his car window and was leaning out of it, calling for her to return. Fuming, Kitty Liz turned on the spot and made her way back to the Chevy.

"Listen to this," the Joker said excitedly once she was standing outside his open window. He wasn't listening to the police radio this time, but rather to the normal radio which was also installed within the vehicle. Recognizing the familiar female voice, Kitty Liz realized that he was listening to a news report. Intrigued, she quickly made her way around to the other side of the car and got into the passenger seat.

"… The robbers were armed and highly efficient. Video surveillance confirms that the one in lead of the assault was indeed the Joker, accompanied by five of the seven Arkham Asylum inmates who have escaped this week. Another, currently unidentified, person was working with the group - a tall, masked female dressed in black. Witness reports describe the mystery woman as having been 'following the Joker like a shadow'…"

"They do catch on quickly, don't they?" the Joker asked, turning to grin at Kitty Liz. She couldn't help but smile back at him, despite still feeling less than amicable towards him.

"… In other news, Salvatore Maroni is back on his feet after several months of intensive physiotherapy following his accident at the end of last summer…"

The Joker froze with a harsh expression on his face while the radio presenter continued her report. "Maroni…" the Joker growled, "why couldn't Dent have finished him off…?" He then turned off the radio, got out of the car, and made his way towards the opening of the shadowy cave. He stopped there with his hands behind his back and a frown on his face. Kitty Liz followed him to his side, not quite able to discern his facial expression in the near darkness.

"What about Maroni?" she asked carefully.

"I made a deal with the bastard and he tried to sell me out to the damned cops," the Joker muttered in response.

Kitty Liz raised an eyebrow. "Are you planning to do something about it?"

The Joker stared at her for a second, but then his lips split into a mysterious smile. "Maybe I am."

"Kill him?" Kitty Liz asked, smiling back mischievously.

"Naw, maybe not kill… but he definitely needs to be told to stay out of my way now that he's back on the streets. HEY - you have yet to go on a solo mission, haven't you???"

Kitty Liz nodded, grinning.

"PERFECT - tomorrow night then you'll pay our special friend a little visit and deliver him a quick message from me. How 'bout that?"

"It definitely sounds like a plan!"

"Good. We'll talk more about it tomorrow. Now go to sleep or something."


	9. Chapter 9

**_The Return_**

Kitty Liz had been lying awake in the back of the Chevrolet for what felt like hours now. The grey morning light illuminated the inside of the car, and Kitty Liz could see the top of the Joker's green head showing just above the back of the driver's seat in front of her. She could tell it was still very early in the morning, and the Joker appeared to be asleep. The cause of her sudden insomnia was a continuous stream of thought which simply would not give her peace. The subject of her pondering? Yesterday's developments. She could not get over the fact the Joker would come up with such an elaborate lie and all for the sake of what? _Lying? _It did not make sense. Ever since she woke up at the break of dawn, curiosity had been killing her. Why lie? What was there to hide? And, most importantly, what was the _truth?_ She just could not put the matter to rest. The Joker knew everything about her, and yet she knew nothing about him. He had not said a single word about what made him the way he was. If only he had given her _something._ A single clue. Anything.

Kitty Liz suddenly gasped, her eyes growing wide. The Joker _had_ given her something. Maybe he even _meant_ to give it to her. It was only a brief remark, but it was definitely a hint. Hamilton Hill. The Joker said he did not die from a heart attack, and Kitty Liz now wanted to know how the Joker knew that.

With a plan in mind, Kitty Liz sat up in the back seat and pulled her blanket off of herself. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she pulled on her shoes and opened the car door. Having slipped outside and carefully shut the door behind her, she made her way to the back of the cave, shivering in the cold morning air. She picked up her purse from the pile of belongings which she and the Joker had removed from the Chevy yesterday, and left the cave with it. Outside, the rain had stopped, but the sky was grey and the wind was still rocking the river waters. Kitty Liz knelt on the pebbles at the water's edge and carefully pulled off her gloves and mask. She slipped them into her purse, then drew up some water in her hands and washed her face, making sure to remove all of the black paint from around her eyes and the black lipstick from her mouth. Next, she removed all of the accessories from her hair and also placed them inside her purse. Finally, she took out a small pocket mirror and checked to make sure she looked perfectly… normal.

Satisfied with the results, Kitty Liz returned to the cave, where she directed her attention once again to the pile of belongings. Having set her purse down on top of a box, she dug out a pair of sneakers, a pair of jeans, a pair of socks, a sweater, and her winter coat. She then unsheathed her knives and removed her guns from her belt, and placed them all inside a plastic bag for safekeeping. All she had to do now was put on the civilian clothing and she would be set to go. She pulled on the jeans and sweater over the suit she was already wearing, then took off her shoes and put on the socks and sneakers. She stuffed her shoes inside the bag with the weapons. Finally, she put on her coat, hung her purse on her shoulder, and proceeded to roll her Vespa out of the shadows. But as she turned to face the entrance of the cave, she found someone watching her.

"Going somewhere?" the Joker asked, looking at her with an amused expression on his face. He was standing in front of the Impala, leaning on it casually.

Kitty Liz froze in her tracks; she was not prepared for this.

"This isn't what it looks like…." she began.

"Oh, yeah?" the Joker asked, raising an eyebrow, his lips breaking into a sprawling smile. "And what does it look like?"

"Me… leaving," Kitty Liz replied hesitantly.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," the Joker said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You're not going anywhere anymore." His smile suddenly turned ominous. "If, however, you have somewhere you need to be… today, I won't stop you. It's just that I had such a fun day planned for us…. We were going to find a new apartment.… I thought you'd want to have a say in what we choose, you know?"

_So he doesn't mind me taking the day off?_ Kitty Liz thought to herself. She decided to jump on the opportunity immediately.

"You can pick it!" she sputtered quickly. "I don't mind! I'll be happy with whatever you choose."

"Is that so?" the Joker asked, his smile intensifying. "And how will you know where to find me?"

"I'll call you!" Kitty Liz exclaimed, nodding quickly and pointing to her chest in reference to her tie.

"Well, alright," the Joker replied with a smirk. "But what about tonight? You haven't forgotten about Maroni, have you?"

"Of course not! I'll run my errand tonight."

"Will you now? Do you even know where you're going? What time? What you're gonna do when you get there?"

"I have a good idea of what I'm going to say to him… but I do need to know when and where."

The Joker crossed his arms and looked at Kitty Liz smugly. "This is Maroni's second day back on the streets. I'm assuming the first day he spent with his wife, out of… obligation. But he will have to meet with his vermin sooner or later, and I'm guessing sooner rather than later. Tonight. He will do it tonight. Here's the address of the warehouse where they usually meet." The Joker took a slip of paper and a sharpened pencil out of his pocket, laid the paper on top of the car, and wrote down the address. "As for the time, I ain't so sure. He might still be frightened by the Batman, or he might think he's one of them now. Somehow, I don't see him holding the get-together in the middle of the day, but not in the middle of the night either. Be there at 10:00 PM. You'll be bound to catch him then, at whatever stage of the meeting."

"Will do," Kitty Liz replied with a nod. She rolled her Vespa up to the Chevy and took the piece of paper from the Joker. "I left my weapons and my shoes in a plastic bag back there," she said, pointing to the back of the cave. "Could you leave it behind so I can grab it later?"

"Of course."

"I hope I don't die tonight," Kitty Liz said with a sudden giggle.

"Don't worry," the Joker replied, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. "If Maroni catches you, he'll keep you alive for a long, _long_ time."

Kitty Liz pretended to look sure of herself as she stuffed the paper with the address into her pocket, waved an awkward goodbye, and proceeded to guide her scooter out of the cave and onto the pebbles. Although she felt tremendously excited about her upcoming mission, she was equally aware of the danger the Joker was putting her in. Nevertheless, apprehension was not her order of business at the moment, so she swept the negative thoughts to the back of her head, pushed her Vespa onto the dock, mounted it, and was soon speeding down the wet pavement.

* * *

One cup of coffee, one tank of gas, and one hour later, Kitty Liz arrived at the Gotham Public Library. She did not particularly enjoy exposing herself to the public like this, but she was dealing with a matter she had to get to the bottom of. Isolating herself in the far corner of the computer section, she picked a computer and typed "Hamilton Hill" into the search engine. She was not sure what she was looking for, but she wanted to refresh her memory of the mayor's reported death, and perhaps pick up on some inconsistency or another.

She was startled by her own ignorance as she quickly found out today was actually the one-year anniversary of Hill's death. Of course, the developments of the past few days seemed to her an acceptable excuse to have lost track of history. As she kept reading, she was discouraged by the fact that every article, news report, and discussion board seemed to recall the story just as she remembered it: Hamilton Hill died from a heart attack in his penthouse late on March 9th, 2008. Disappointed, she gave up on the clearly not all-knowing Internet.

After taking a few minutes to simply sit and think, she decided to try her luck at another media resource - newspapers. Gotham Public Library had the largest online collection of newspapers in the entire city, including scans of not only major papers like the Gotham Times, but also smaller community-based newspapers. Kitty Liz typed the words "Hamilton Hill" and "death" into the keywords section and hit search. Within seconds, she was swarmed with results nearly identical to the ones she found online - front-page articles and obituaries, but not one mention of the Joker. Beginning to lose hope again, Kitty Liz continued clicking away at the articles, but then she noticed something a little out of place. It was another obituary for Hamilton Hill, written the day following the discovery of his body, but it was not a front-page article or even a top story. It was short and nondescript, placed in the common obituary section of the Riverside Community Journal along with the obituaries of Riverside community members. Kitty Liz had heard of that neighbourhood and its high poverty rate, which explained why the editor of the paper did not bother drawing much attention to the death of the mayor who had neglected his fellow neighbours his entire career. Kitty Liz skimmed over the page absent-mindedly, noting the mayor's fellow decedents, until a photo caught her eye. The photograph was of a smiling young man standing with his arm wrapped around the shoulders of an older woman, whom Kitty Liz guessed to be his mother. Though the photo was black and white, Kitty Liz could tell the man had blond hair. She leaned in toward the computer monitor and stared closely at his face, but in a moment she had withdrawn with a gasp. She recognized his eyes, those bright brown eyes she was helpless against, and knew for a fact whom they belonged to. The picture was included in the obituary of one Jack Napier, age 28. The obituary went as follows:

"This is my son. He was an ambitious young man who made the best of what he had and never let go of his dreams. He asked the city for a favor and got heartlessly shut down in return. I blame the city for this.

"I will miss you, Jack, and I will always love you.

"Your mother, Mary."

Kitty Liz had to simply sit and stare for a few moments as she tried to fully understand what she was seeing. Clearly, the Joker, _Jack Napier,_ was _not _dead, but perhaps if the last night his mother had seen him alive was also the last night Mayor Hill was seen alive, then whatever happened to change the Joker from the smiling youth he was in the picture to the grinning monster he was now could very well have happened then. One thing Kitty Liz knew for certain - the answer to her question was not going to be found here.

A quick Whitepages search for Mary Napier yielded one result, at 42 River Road. Not wanting to waste a single moment, Kitty Liz looked up driving directions, printed them out, and left the library. She jumped on her scooter and was off. Twenty minutes later, she realized she was actually beginning to recognize her surroundings, but for the life of her she could not remember when she had been here. Then it hit her. The abandoned buildings, the rundown alleyways - she had been here the time she and the Joker spent the night on the streets. She remembered him calling this part of town closer to home, and she finally understood why. He grew up here.

A couple of minutes later, Kitty Liz was driving down River Road, with Gotham River on her right and old townhouses on her left. She was counting down the numbers anxiously. As of right now, she had no idea what she would say to this woman, how she would introduce herself, or what she would tell her about her son. Nevertheless, she soon pulled into the driveway of 42 River Road and parked her scooter. She knew she was in the right place as a sign on the front door read, "MARY NAPIER: SEAMSTRESS."

Kitty Liz approached the door nervously, took a deep breath, and knocked. She heard approaching footsteps on the other side and a moment later was face to face with an older woman aged around fifty or sixty. She was very small and thin in stature, had blonde, greying hair, clear blue eyes, and there were wrinkles on her face that could only express kindness.

"You're here about my boy," she said with a smile.

Kitty Liz froze on the spot, taken utterly by surprise. Of course, this _did _save her the trouble of explaining to the poor woman who she was and what had become of her son.

"You know who I am," Kitty Liz stated.

"Well, of course. You're the lawyer from the TV… and the girl who robbed the bank with my son yesterday."

Kitty Liz felt gravely disappointed. "Surely my disguise was more effective than that…?"

"I've learned not to underestimate Jack, my dear, and I suggest you do the same. I know he can be very… _persuasive_ with people, and could easily convince even an active defender of the law like yourself to join him. Now, would you like to come in?"

"You don't know me…." Kitty Liz muttered under her breath, but nevertheless followed Mary into her home. Evidence of Mary's work was all over the house - sewing machines, articles of clothing waiting to be repaired or picked up, boxes of thread, scissors, needles, thimbles, rolls of fabric. Framed photographs hung of the walls, of Mary and Jack, though Jack's father was nowhere to be seen. Mary led Kitty Liz into the dining room, where it appeared she did most of her work.

"Would you like a cup of tea and a biscuit?" Mary asked.

It was at that moment that Kitty Liz realized just how hungry she was. "Two sugars, please," she replied.

Mary disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes, then returned with the food she had promised. She set it down on the dining table. "If you don't mind, I would like to continue my work while we talk," she said.

"By all means," Kitty Liz replied, and she and Mary sat down at the table.

"So, Catherine -" Mary began, taking a torn dress and beginning to repair it using the sewing machine on the table in front of her.

"Please call me Kitty Liz," Kitty Liz corrected her automatically.

"Alright, _Kitty Liz._ I am assuming my son had told you nothing of his true past and that is the reason you are here."

"Yes, it is. Mrs. Napier, if I may ask -"

Now it was Mary's turn to interrupt. "You can call me Mary, dear," she said.

"_Mary_… how is it you know your son is alive and yet you wrote his obituary for the Riverside Community Journal?"

"Because, dear, I went through a period of time during which I thought he really _was _dead. But then I saw footage of him with green hair and sporting that terrible smile of his, and I knew my prayers had been answered, though not in the manner I had hoped they would be."

Kitty Liz took a bite out of her biscuit. "You recognized him… underneath all that makeup?"

"How could I not, dear? He ismy _son._"

"But you didn't come forward to the police, not even after seeing what he has become?"

"More than anything, I wished Jack would turn himself in or get arrested… but I could not betray him. I could not do that to my own flesh and blood."

"Mary… I need you to answer this honestly, for it is the reason I came…. Did Jack kill Hamilton Hill?"

"_I_ _do not_ _know,_ dear," Mary replied, an expression of frustration now coming over her face, "and trust me when I say that very question has been keeping me up every night this past year."

"Then tell me everything you _do _know."

"Alright, but I am afraid it is not much. As you may have surmised, Jack grew up here. His father left when I was pregnant, so we lived alone. We did not have much money, never did. I have been a seamstress my entire life and Jack had been helping me ever since he was a little boy. Even though I had no money to send him to college, that did not stop him from holding on to his dream. It is quite a coincidence, really, that he wanted to be a lawyer just like you -"

"The _Joker?_" Kitty Liz spat without thinking. "A _lawyer?_"

"You did not know him back then, dear. He was very gifted in his way with people, and he was a good man. He never would have abandoned me if I had not convinced him to pursue his dream. He was 28 years old and still working as a seamstress's assistant. I could bear no longer seeing him like that. I did not want him to end up nowhere in life like I had, so I told him to take matters into his own hands. I told him to go to the mayor himself and ask for a grant or loan for his education. We had a powerful tool on our side - our community paper. Jack and I wrote for it regularly, and we would have written about the mayor's response, whether positive or negative. We trusted the mayor would keep that in mind, given our neighborhood's disdain for the way he ran things. So Jack pulled strings, scheduled a meeting with the mayor, and that was when it all began. His meeting was scheduled for the night the mayor was murdered. Before he left at six o'clock, I fixed his tie, wished him good luck, and kissed him goodbye. That was the last time I saw my son."

"If that was the last you saw of him, why didn't you just report him missing? Why automatically assume he was dead?"

"Because, dear, after Jack left that night, I went to the grocery store to get us some wine and some cake in case we were celebrating. When I came home a couple of hours later, I found the back door had been left open. There was a trail of blood leading from the door to the bathroom. In the bathroom, I found blood spattered all over the mirror as well as pooled in the sink and on the counter. My sewing tools were scattered everywhere - scissors, needles, rolls of thread, all covered in blood. I followed the blood trail outside, across the back yard, and down a path that runs behind this row of townhouses, until finally a block down it led across the road and onto an old pier on the river. That is where it stopped. All that lay ahead were the deep churning waters, and that is when I had assumed the worst. I thought Jack was denied the money and it had tipped him over the edge. I thought he had killed himself. Of course, it was not until next morning that I realized one of my knives was missing. It was the smallest one I had, a potato peeler. That is also when I knew the mayor had been murdered."

"Why is that?"

"That is when the police showed up, dear, at the break of dawn, along with those crime scene investigators or what have you. Not that I had not been awake the whole night regardless. They told me Jack was a suspect, but they would not tell me what he was suspected _of_. They did not have a warrant, but since they refused to cooperate, so did I."

"You didn't tell them you thought your son had committed suicide? You didn't hope they'd recover his body?"

"These people have done _nothing _for this community for as long as I have lived here, so I was not expecting anything else from them in regards to Jack's disappearance."

"Fair enough. But how did you find out about the mayor? And why did you notice the missing knife?"

"The crime scene investigators were adamant about seeing my collection of knives, so I made a deal with them, saying I would allow them to take my knives in exchange for information. That is when they told me they were investigating Mayor Hill's murder and that my son was one of the last people to see him alive. I asked what they had on him, and they said they knew about his meeting with the mayor. But they also said witnesses reported him both entering City Hall for the meeting and then leaving half an hour later. By all accounts, the mayor was still alive and well at that point. Seeing as they had nothing, I went ahead and gave them my knives. That is when I noticed the potato peeler was missing, though I did not think much of it at the time, let alone bother to mention it to the policemen. I got my knives back later that day; just as I had expected, they were clean."

"And…?"

"And what, dear?"

"What happened next?"

"Two months later I saw Jack on the TV interrogating a Batman impostor. But you already know that story."

"But the mayor? You truly don't know if he killed him?"

"I never said I did. Why is that so important for you to know anyway?"

"Because I need to know the _truth!_" Kitty Liz cried out, frustrated. "I need to know what made him the way he is!"

"Wouldn't we all, dear?"

Kitty Liz fell silent, realizing she had clearly reached a dead end. After a moment, she sighed and got up from the table. "Thanks for the tea and all your help, Mary," she said to the seamstress.

Mary nodded and got up from the table as well. She walked Kitty Liz to the front door.

"This conversation," Kitty Liz began as she stopped in the doorway, "I trust it will remain secret between us?"

"Keeping secrets is what I do, dear," Mary replied with a plaintive smile.

Kitty Liz nodded in understanding, then walked through the door and began making her way down the driveway.

"Oh, Kitty Liz?" Mary suddenly called after her.

Kitty Liz spun around. "Yes?"

"Take care of him for me, dear."

Kitty Liz did not say anything. She could not for the life of her think of a reason the Joker could not take care of himself. Nevertheless, wishing not to disappoint Mary, she gave her a quick nod and a smile, and was on her way.

* * *

It was 9:45 PM and Kitty Liz had been observing Salvatore Maroni's warehouse for nearly an hour. After retrieving her belongings from the Joker's now vacated cave, she had changed into her gear, put on her makeup, and parked her scooter in an alley one block down the road, making sure to hide it between two dumpsters and cover it with cardboard so it would not get stolen. Since then, she had been scouring the area, keeping an eye on the people going into the warehouse, locating entry points, and figuring out all possible escape routes. Unfortunately for her, she had found only one accessible entry and exit point - the main door - which meant she had nothing more to rely on than the element of surprise.

An inconspicuous silver SUV pulled into the warehouse parking lot. Kitty Liz watched Maroni exit the vehicle, accompanied by two of his thugs. He still had a very noticeable limp to his gait and was using a cane, but even so Kitty Liz could sense the air of power around him. She watched him and his thugs go into the warehouse, and when ten minutes later nobody else had arrived, Kitty Liz realized it was time to go in.

Trying to stay within the shadows of the buildings, she made her way to the warehouse. To her advantage, it was surrounded by total darkness. Suddenly feeling slightly more confident, she marched up to the heavy metal door and slowly pulled it open, but just enough for her to squeeze through. What lay beyond was a short dimly-lit corridor which turned at a ninety degree angle, concealing what lay ahead. Tentatively, Kitty Liz crept down the passage. As she rounded the bend, however, she came to a complete and total stop.

There, leaning casually against the wall in front of a set of open double doors and looking bored out of his mind, stood a rather big and weathered thug. It only took him a second to notice her, and though at first he looked utterly confused to see her, an ugly smile soon spread over his lips.

"Ooh, girl, I know Maroni likes 'em weird, but looks like your daddy really went out of his way to please tonight, eh?" the thug said, eyeing her up and down and walking up to her with a little dance in his step. Kitty Liz shied away from him uncomfortably. "Too bad you're about two hours early, but don't worry, honey, I won't tell your pimp about your lil' mess-up here; in fact, I'll even give you somethin' to do in the meantime, eh?"

Kitty Liz's level of discomfort about tripled as she realized what was going on.

"You think I'm a…?" the began, but never quite got to "prostitute" as she suddenly found the thug had backed her up against a wall.

"Come on, honey. Give daddy a lil' sugar," the thug said, pressing up against her. "Just be quiet for me."

The thug ran his hands down Kitty Liz's back, across her waist, down to her hips, and lower still. For a moment, Kitty Liz found herself in a state of confused shock, but only for a moment. The next moment, she had swung her arm around and punched the thug in the side of the head. Hitting him in the temple, she knocked him out cold, and he collapsed to the floor.

Slightly disoriented from surprise at the unexpected success of her own self-defense, Kitty Liz backed away down the hallway and soon enough had backed through the open double doors. The metal detector which she then unknowingly walked through reacted with an ungodly sound of deafening ringing and beeping, and the room which she had backed into fell uncomfortably silent. Kitty Liz turned on the spot with baited breath, and the sight which then met her eyes was possibly the worst she could have ever imagined. Only a few feet away from her stood a long conference table, on either side of which sat some of the most prominent members of Gotham mafia, many of whom Kitty Liz had had on trial herself, and across from her, at the far end of the table, sat Salvatore Maroni himself. The eyes of eleven of the city's most dangerous men were now fixed unfalteringly on _her. _It was at times like these that she hoped nothing more than for her disguise to do its job.

Maroni bluntly broke the silence: "You're early."

Kitty Liz did her best to keep herself from gaping. Even _Maroni _thought she was a hooker? She felt her blood begin to boil in embarrassment, and quickly decided to seriously reconsider her choice of outfit. Then again, she could use this development to get close to Maroni, and to get to him alone. All she had to do was wait around until his meeting was over and then she could deliver her message in peace. However, what if the real escort arrived before then? Kitty Liz realized that if she wanted to make full use of her accidental new disguise, she would have to do it _now._

"Oops," Kitty Liz said as sweetly and innocently as possible, disguising her accent into that of a southerner. "I'm sorreh, mistah, but I tell ya what - if ya don't tell mah daddeh I can't tell tha time, I'll treat ya to a whole extra hour, free of charge." She locked eyes with Maroni and stepped lightly toward the conference table. Placing her delicately-gloved hands on top of the polished pine, she leaned forward slightly, hoping the tops of her breasts were now exposed. Judging by the fact Maroni's eyes were now focused on a spot some distance below her face, she was fairly confident she had succeeded. She smiled smugly, but her smile soon faded as she became conscious of the fact she was stalling. What the _hell _was she supposed to do now? All she knew was she either had to do something _drastic_ or do nothing at all.

She chose to do something drastic.

In a fluid movement which she in her nervousness almost failed to carry through, she hoisted herself onto the table and stood up. The men around her leaned back in their chairs, wide-eyed. Some were gaping. Maroni's expression, however, became immediately guarded. Taking it as a sign that she should proceed with her plan as quickly as possible, Kitty Liz strutted down the table, treating it like a model would treat a catwalk. Except she was not a model, and her audience were a dozen or so mobsters with loaded guns in their pants. The knowledge of this only added to her discomfort, and her fear of slipping up increased exponentially. Almost too quickly, she had reached the end of the table. Maroni sat looking up at her, his eyebrows twisted in a questioning line at the base of his forehead. _Now what? _she asked herself. She took a quick note of everything she had to work with: Maroni's chair was big and black, one of those expensive office chairs with wheels; his cane leaned against the table in front of him, which told her he was still recovering from the injuries sustained in the car accident, which meant, she thought hopefully, he was at least somewhat less dangerous than before. That was when an idea sprang spontaneously into her mind. The idea was insane, possibly deadly, and it made Kitty Liz sick to the stomach just thinking about it. Nevertheless, she went ahead and sat down on the edge of the table in front of Maroni, putting her feet on his chair. She leaned into his face, gripping the chair's armrests tightly with her hands. Maroni smelled of cigar smoke and expensive cologne.

"Who do ya want me to be today?" Kitty Liz breathed. "A vigilante come to take ya away?"

She slid off the table and into Maroni's lap, slipping her legs underneath the armrests until her feet were touching the floor. She half-expected Maroni to shoot her right then and there, but out of nowhere he grinned at her sleazily. Kitty Liz gave him her cockiest smile back.

"Let's go for a ride," she said in a sugary voice, then turned around briefly and used her hands to push herself, the chair, and Maroni away from table. She made sure to push with a twist, so that the chair made half a turn on its stand as it rolled away and was now facing _away _from the table. It came to a stop against a wall ten feet away and Kitty Liz finally found herself sharing a private moment with Maroni. She pulled out her smallest knife and had it pressed to his neck faster than the nasty smile could fade from his face.

"Don't say a word," she whispered, her voice now cold and threatening. Maroni's eyes grew wide at the contact of steel against skin, but he hardly breathed, let alone talked. Kitty Liz knew the back of his chair hid them from the eyes of his trigger-happy friends, so she felt she was relatively safe for now. "Thank you," she said softly as Maroni continued to hold his tongue. "Now we can get to business. I must admit I don't know howyou don't know who I am, though I suppose you have been spending a lot of time at the hospital lately, so maybe you haven't been watching too much TV. Though I'm sure you'll find out soon enough. Before you do, however, I'd like to relay a little message. _Stay away from the Joker. _You have betrayed him once, and he won't tolerate it again. If he so much as _sees _you, he'll kill you. This I can guarantee you, so please consider it before you decide to go after me. Do you understand?"

Maroni nodded his agreement gingerly, and Kitty Liz smiled, adding just a little more force to the knife at his neck. Her mission was complete. Now was the time to get out of here. But she suddenly felt as she had when she first entered the room - not knowing where to go next. Then, however, it hit her, though this time everything depended on speed and surprise.

Not giving Maroni a single hint of her imminent departure, she pulled her legs out from underneath the armrests and got by far into the least comfortable position she had ever been in. She raised her legs, bending them at the knee, until the soles of her feet were pressed against the top of the back of Maroni's chair on either side of his head. Maroni's eyes grew wider yet, but still he did not make a sound.

"Your wife is one lucky woman," Kitty Liz said, her voice thick with hatred and sarcasm. She then pulled the knife away from Maroni's throat, and even as he opened his mouth to order her to be taken off of him and shot immediately, she pushed as hard as she could with her feet at the back of his chair. It toppled, taking him down with it. Kitty Liz, however, was prepared. When the back of the chair had hit the ground, she dove forward, and within a split second was underneath the conference table, crawling toward the exit between the rows of feet on either side of her.

"_SHOOT HER,_" she heard Maroni shout, and there was sudden commotion above her. She saw the mobsters getting out of their chairs; some of their faces peered beneath the table, but they were too late. She had already reached the other end and was sprinting toward the metal detector. She heard shots fired behind her - all misses. She was through the metal detector, which caused a whining like a crashing plane. All she had to do now was make it down the corridor, but she knew by then she would surely get shot. Then a lifeline made himself visible: the thug whom Kitty Liz had punched on her way in had regained consciousness and was now standing in the middle of the hallway with his back to her, rubbing his head and looking altogether lost. Hearing more shots fired, Kitty Liz quickly threw her arm around the brute's neck and spun him around. His colleagues did not react fast enough to stop firing, and in a moment he was riddled with holes and quite dead. That is when the other thugs realized what they had done and ceased fire, but by then Kitty Liz was already letting go of the guard and rounding the bend in the hallway. Six more running steps and she was out the main door.

"_DON'T JUST STAND THERE,_" Maroni bellowed at his fellow crime lords. "_GO AFTER HER!_"

All eleven criminals piled out of the warehouse and onto the pitch-black street. Maroni ordered them to search between the surrounding buildings, knowing Kitty Liz could not have gotten far. They searched for half an hour, but found nothing. Eventually, Maroni called them back to the meeting. They talked in detail about what had just happened, shared their communal hatred of the Joker, and planned what would be done to him if he were to be caught. Afterwards, they packed Big D into a black body bag, cleaned up the mess he left behind, and two of them drove off to dispose of his body. The rest, including Maroni, soon left as well. That is when Kitty Liz finally emerged from her hiding spot.

She had been hiding in the window well outside the warehouse's main door. It was several feet deep, and having curled up in a ball at the very bottom of it, Kitty Liz was able to keep out of sight. Her black suit and ebony hair had made her indistinguishable from the darkness.

With the danger passed, she climbed out of the well. She checked her watch - it was now midnight. It had rained while she was hiding, another factor which had undoubtedly facilitated her concealment, but it was warm and quiet now, and the streets were deserted. She could not believe her escape tactic had worked. As she walked in the direction of her scooter, she inhaled lungful of sweet air in great relief, laughing happily at her own ingenuity.

As she rounded the corner of the alley where she had parked her scooter, her jubilation was brought to a sudden stop. A shadow had dropped seemingly straight out of the sky and now stood in her path. The cape and cowl were unmistakable.

"_Batman,_" Kitty Liz whispered.

"Catherine Elizabeth Francis," Batman rumbled in response.

Kitty Liz was surprised by how little fear she felt. "I see the great Batman has figured it out," she said simply.

"Surrender now, Catherine," Batman replied gruffly. "You can still return to the life you had."

"And what makes you think I _want_ to return?" Kitty Liz demanded. She was stalling, mulling over her options in her head. It all boiled down to fight or flight. She could run, but outrunning the Batman seemed unlikely. She could _fight,_ make her way past him to her scooter and escape that way, but overpowering him seemed just as improbable. Then, however, Batman said something which made her decision for her:

"I don't want to hurt you, Miss Francis."

"That's funny," Kitty Liz replied. "That's exactly the opposite of how I feel about you." Suddenly, she burst forward, moving as though she wanted to attack Batman. Batman braced himself for the upcoming impact, but at the last moment Kitty Liz dropped to the ground and slid feet-first across the wet pavement underneath Batman's legs, like a baseball player desperately trying to score a run. She had made it to the other side and leaped back onto her feet with a satisfied cackle, but then felt a hand grab the back of her shirt and lift her quite effortlessly into the air.

"Wake up," Batman growled into her back. "You know this isn't your life."

"You don't know me," Kitty Liz hissed seethingly, unsheathing one of her knives. She twisted around in midair and tried to plunge the knife into Batman's arm, but it glanced off of his armour, causing her to lose her grip on its handle. Before the knife had hit the ground, she had unsheathed another. This time, she jammed the blade into the softer fabric in the elbow joint of Batman's suit. She was fairly sure she did not strike skin, but the pain was enough for Batman to lose his grip on her and to recoil his arm, simultaneously setting her free and wrenching the knife out of her hand.

Finding her feet back on solid ground, Kitty Liz made a mighty burst forward, but Batman was quicker. He wrapped his arm around her neck, trapping her in an inescapable headlock, but she knew she still had three knives left on her belt. She grabbed a small one with a serrated edge and dragged it along Batman's armoured wrist. This achieved nothing, and Batman used his spare hand to wrench the knife out of hers and throw it to the ground.

"It's over, Kitty Liz," he rumbled into her ear.

"Is it?" Kitty Liz asked in response, then in a lightning-fast motion took the smallest knife from her belt and lashed out at where she assumed Batman's face would be. The blade mostly struck his mask, but with an ounce of luck she managed to catch his chin. Batman drew back in agony, freeing Kitty Liz for an instant, but the next instant he had delivered a well-aimed punch to her wrist, knocking the knife out of her fingers. She shook her hand and rubbed her wrist in pain and frustration, then greeted her assailant with a storm of punches and kicks. Her attack proved completely futile, so she bolted. Behind her, she heard the whine of unwinding cable, the swoosh of leathery cloak, and suddenly Batman had alighted before her once more. With a furious snarl, Kitty Liz unsheathed her last, largest knife, and lunged blade-first at him. Batman easily blocked her strike, then grabbed her from behind, taking a hold of her wrists and crossing her arms over her chest until she could move no longer.

"You're going down, Miss Francis. You have to accept this."

For a moment, Kitty Liz almost did. But then she remembered she was not through her arsenal of weapons just yet. Kicking the left side of her right shoe against the pavement, she made a blade pop out the back of her sole. With all her force, she drove her heel into Batman's right knee, managing to lodge the blade underneath his knee guard. She heard a roar erupt from his throat and felt herself being pushed about six feet away. She barely stayed on her feet, but with a wicked grin she caught herself and deployed the rest of her shoe blades. As Batman tried desperately to repair his knee guard, Kitty Liz was upon him in a fury of well-aimed kicks. She was disappointed, however, to discover that he was able to use his cloak quite successfully as a shield. The material it was made from was extraordinarily tough and smooth, so her blows glanced off of it more than anything. Suddenly, however, she had an idea. She pulled out the two jagged thin blades hidden in her hair, and tore toward Batman with them in her hand, but instead of going for his body, she went for his cloak. In her previous attack, she had backed Batman up against a wall, and right behind him there was now a window with a wooden frame. Holding the blades in her right hand, she caught Batman's cloak with the other and held it against the frame. Then she drove both blades through the cloak and into the frame, the serrated metal piercing the soft wood several inches deep. She grinned at Batman smugly, then started toward her scooter.

She could tell from the sounds of struggling behind her that Batman could not get his cloak free. He was tethered to the window like a dog on a leash. Smirking to herself, she pulled the cardboard off of her Vespa and rolled it out from between the two dumpsters.

There was a clink of metal on the pavement behind her.

She turned around just in time to see a small grenade rattle its way toward her and lodge itself underneath her scooter's front tire. With a moment's notice on her hands, she dove behind the nearest dumpster.

Kitty Liz knew the grenade went off just as Batman had planned it, and as she now peered around the side of the dumpster and saw the heap of twisted metal which was mere moments ago her trusty old scooter, something inside of her snapped.

Batman had finally freed himself by slicing his way through his cloak, and now stood watching her solemnly.

"You have no mode of transportation and you cannot outrun me," he told her blankly. "Surrender yourself and I'll tell the Gotham PD you came willingly. Let me help you, Miss Francis."

"Help yourself," Kitty Liz whispered, then burst from her hiding spot with her .44 Magnum revolver gripped firmly in her hands. Batman barely had time to react before she released round after round into his armour. One clapped against his leg and another against his shoulder; the other four hit him squarely in the chest. Winded, Batman doubled over and nearly collapsed, but was able to keep himself on his feet by resting one hand on the pavement in front of him. Kitty Liz's handgun pointedly clicked the emptiness of its barrel, and she realized her escape had to be now or never. Holstering her pistol and pulling out her grapnel gun instead, she fired the cartridge off onto the nearest rooftop. She waited until the hooks caught on some protrusion or another atop the roof, gave the cable a few strength-testing tugs, then clipped herself in and pushed the clicker atop the grip of the gun upwards. Immediately, the mechanism inside the gun began winding up the cable, simultaneously carrying her skyward along the wall. She pushed against the bricks with her feet to speed up the process.

The spidery grappling cables which shot out of Batman's grapnel gun bounced and ricocheted off of the wall at Kitty Liz's feet. They had magnets on their ends instead of hooks, and several cables managed to tangle themselves around Kitty Liz's ankles, the magnets attracting each other and locking Kitty Liz's legs in an inescapable embrace. She felt tension pulling at her feet and turned her head to see Batman, still crouching on the ground with one hand on the pavement, now holding and operating his grapnel gun. His cable pulled her back toward the ground. She had already passed the second floor of the building she was scaling, so she knew a fall from this height would be nasty. Her own little gun whined and groaned under the strain. It pulled slower and slower, complaining louder and louder, until finally it stalled completely. Only Batman's gun now operated with a powerful mechanical whir. The cables around Kitty Liz's ankles dug so deeply into her skin she felt tears of pain well in her eyes, and yet the force was not enough to make the cable which fastened her to the rooftop snap. Finally, however, her grapnel gun gave out a morose _click_ as the mechanism skipped a rotation. _Click. Click. Click._ She felt her cable give a little slack and herself descend an inch. _CLICK._ The mechanism broke, the cable unwound with a frenzied whizzing and lashing, and Kitty Liz plummeted toward the ground. She landed on her feet, but because of the angle of her descent and because her ankles were tied together, keeping her balance proved impossible. She toppled backwards, hitting her head on the cold wet pavement.

* * *

The thud was unforgettable. It was hard to believe her own skull could have made such a sound. _Crunch,_ then _splat. _It was funny, really. She would have laughed if she could have. The back of her head felt hot. Around her was the sound of people screaming, yelling. Above her, far above the rooftops and the city lights, she could see the stars. A man's terrified face suddenly appeared above hers. He stared at her for a long second, but then yelling behind him made him turn away.

"She jumped!" he yelled back, then, "I don't know! I think someone called already!"

Kitty Liz watched the man look down at her fearfully again, then back away, looking lost. Her vision was growing dim. Soon enough, she was engulfed in complete darkness. Her hearing, however, was sharper than it had ever been in her life. She could clearly hear the sound of sirens approaching, people talking in hushed voices around her. She could hear an older woman, her neighbour, crying. But above all she could hear the TV in her living room, six floors overhead, over the railing, across the balcony, and through the open sliding doors. Or maybe she just imagined she heard it. Whatever the case was, the news anchor she had been watching mere moments ago was repeating the same thing over and over again in her head: "Gotham's nefarious criminal, Jack Napier, more commonly known as the Joker, has been caught on this the 13th of August, 2008."

And then there was silence.


End file.
